Mack the Knife
by DrPQJazz
Summary: A killer has been unleasehed upon the Glee Club, who are dropping dead with nothing but Jazz in the air and in their cold still ears. Who is it? No central chracter, but Kurt is highlighted. First fan fic, please be gentle XD - It's over, thanks everyone!
1. Misty

**Hi general public of ! This is my first attempt at writing. Not a fan fic, just writing anything in general, so please forgive if there are grammer errors or spelling cockups, and of course, content deficiency. =P I hope you'll enjoy it, CHEERS! AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

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"Mr Schue, I think I speak for everyone when I say I have decaying relatives younger than this song" the fair skinned tenor quipped.

Will, the curly haired man, Mr Schue to the kids, saw this coming. It's not like "Dream a Little Dream" is that old? Is it? The Journey songs hadn't received that much complains from the kids, and when they did all the show tunes, not one had a comment. But Jazz, the 20 and under kryptonite, was even mentioned, all teenage hell broke loose.

"Come on Kurt, we must try different of genres as a glee club, and we should at least do jazz, the father of music," Will tried to reason, without much luck.

"If we were still wearing fedoras and carrying violin cases" Kurt replied, not even bothering to look up as he re-did his hair.

"If we want to attract more people to the Glee club Mr Schuester, we have to use more modern songs, especially songs with female leads that can showcase my talent to really show them that we are the best thing there is!" Rachel had a point, although an irritating one.

"Why not rock?"

"Funk? Pop?"

The teacher gave up, grabbing his bridge in defeat. "Okay guys, I understand. But we'll try jazz another time, okay? So, let's do something more culturally relevant, like rap!" He said as he signalled to Brad for another round of Goldigger. "From the top, take it Mercedes!"

And as the brash diva started to belt out the first few notes, an entity in the room reared its head. Anger. It sat with its fist clenched, white as a sheet. That was it. Last straw, final whistle, curtains call. NO more.

* * *

"And your assignments for the week, find a rap song that best shows what you're feeling, and show it next week! Okay, you're dismissed!"

As the students began to shuffle out with the bags on their shoulders and their networking in their palms, Mr Schuester began to pick up the note sheets for the day. He gathered up all the untouched "Dream a Little Dream of Me" sheets, he pondered for a while.

_Am I doing enough for the kids? Maybe I shouldn't really try to force all my music onto them. I mean, the Push It went well, as well as the Journey, but maybe, less 'songs for the dead, decaying and elevators'?_

He had Santana to thank for that one. The clock had stuck 7. _Time to head back to Casa Schue_, he thought as he grabbed his messenger bag (Not a purse Sue) and headed for the parking lot.

"_Look at me; I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree"_

_Huh?_ Will turned down the corridor. Out of nowhere, that voice picked up again, that low and devilishly smooth echo beckoned. _Was that someone?_

"_And I feel like I'm clinging to a cloud"_

"Artie? Is that you?" Will called out. But the unseen songbird was much lower than Artie, he thought. Maybe, a new recruit? Will was unfazed as he followed the now playing melody. _If I found Finn like this, I'm might just find New Direction member number 13__th__. Just no more Rachels, please. _

"_I get Misty, just holding your hand"_

He finally arrived at the source: History. _No better place to sing jazz in the day and age, _he turned the knob and stepped in, forgetting about the first rule about classrooms after dark. Just never enter them.

_Empty?_ The melody was indeed playing, but that husky voice had stopped. He was staring at an empty classroom, no human souls, and unless a map of 18th century Europe could sing, he was looking for an invisible crooner. _CRUNCH._

Crunch? Will looked down to see the floor covered in wrapping plastics. Sue. Confirmation wasn't far away as the door slammed behind him, firmed locked from the outside.

"_You can say that you're leading me on, but it's just what I want you to do"_

"Sue! Let me out!" Will slammed the door with his fist. _Since when could Sue sing that low?_ That's when it struck him. Wet. Will gasped as he felt something was wrong. His hair was getting moister, as he looked up with his now soggy, curly hair. The sprinklers had been turned on.

But sprinklers don't spray green mist. And Sue can't sing that low. Will panic mode, activate. "LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Will began to have a fistfight with the door as the mist began to descend upon him. Christ. Will began to back off as he felt the first waves of the pain.

"_Don't you notice, how hopelessly I'm lost, that's why I'm following you"_

Will buckled from the sharp pain all over him. Every part of him screamed out as he howled in agonising pain. But he realised it's hard to scream when even your throat hurts like hell. As he hit the floor, Will's mind raced. What was going on? Why does this hurt? Who's doing this? The thoughts were just as confusing as the situation, but thoughts were the last things on his mind. Well, that and the green mist, which had already enveloped him in a cloud of torture.

_My head… _Last thoughts aren't glamorous, and neither were Will Schuster's as the poison finally took full effect. Last things on his mind: head, pain, who and of course, the green poison.

A body on the floor, face scrunched up in the pain of unimaginable amounts. It didn't fit the soothing melody in the background, but the voice from outside did.

"_On my own, would I wander through this wonderland alone?  
Never knowing my right foot from my left, my hat from my glove,  
I get misty, and too much in love."_

Too easy, that was one down. The voice released its grip on the door knob as it opened the door of Will Schuester demise, to gaze upon its handiwork. Agony. Brilliant, it thought as it started wrapping up the now deceased teacher like a salami wrap. All the time flashing an equally brilliant, totally creepy smile. All for jazz, it thought as it walked out of its new playing ground, the new toy yard to the demise of the ignorant. Things were getting started, minus one salami wrap, curly and spiked special.

"_I'm too misty, and too much in love"_

_

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_

**And that's one down. =D**

**Gosh, I hope that wasn't uber uber mega stupendously horrible. I'm not asking for reviews, but opinions are welcome, especially snipe ones. XD**


	2. Come Fly with Me

**Thanks for reading and the reviews! I didn't even expect one! Wee great =D**

**Still had some more in me, so here's Chapter 2, hope its alright, I seem to be taking a more unique (weird) way of writing, not sure if its good or just plain crap, tell me!**

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"Now, as the captain of the Glee club and your only perfected performer, I believe we must come together as a team to decide what song you want me to sing at sectionals!"

Downhill never had a more proud way of showing its ugly head. Glee club had been just horrible; Mr Schue had not come in to school and Rachel had taken over as the Broadway Dictator and turned it quickly into her own club of self-adoration. Naturally, it wasn't five minutes before everyone stormed out, leaving her shouting at her now ex-clubmates.

"Do you think there's a license to ride a unicorn?" Brittany asked the group, who by now used to her sweet, but sadly hilarious quirkiness, smiled back. It wasn't normal to see this half of the club gathered in school, with Artie, Mike, Santana and Britt huddled around a table in the library.

"Do you think I should tell her the truth?" Artie whispered to Mike, who was as clueless as the next guy.

"Zip it Wheels" barked the Latino. If anyone was going to ruin her BFFWB's innocence, they'd better have a cup protector and a stab vest, because she would be more than happy to make another twerp suffer. A junior Percy Michaels had told Brittany that cats didn't grow on trees. They found him knocked out in a cat suit in a tree the next day, no questions asked. They already knew who had done it, they'd faced the wrath before.

"The truth about what?" All turned to Artie, as he began to sweat. Brittany looked puzzled, Mike had his eyebrow raised in quizzical mode and he swore Santana mouth "You're dead" to him.

"Urm..that..er..unicorn licenses are available, but you'll need five stamps of happiness and other things to apply for them" It was good to be a nerd sometimes.

"And what else? I'm intrigued too" Santana coolly said as she shot an evil glare at Artie. _Damn._ Brittany was already looking at him with all the sweet innocence in the world, with Mike keeping in his giggle fit.

_This is going to be a long day_ Artie thought as he began his explanation of unicorns and their left hand indicators.

* * *

Artie was spent. He had just spent 2 hours telling 2 girls and a guy about the benefits of unicorn travel, and why unicorns would make a better pet than a bird in a locker. _Remember to get payback with Santana. _As the school handicapable nerd, he loved the library, although it was on the third floor. Floor numbers above 1 weren't a joy to Artie's eyes. He'd already made friends with Mrs Penrose, the librarian, especially after the MC Hammer performance. He winced when the costumes came back to him.

"_Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away"_

_Someone's singing? In the library? _Artie began to wheel through the bookshelves. Isolation. That feeling he always got when he moved through those tall, metallic monoliths of books. The voice and the music was muffled, but getting more audible as he continued to make his way to the other end of the library, past those high shelves.

"_if you can use some exotic booze, there's a bar in far Bombay"_

The voice was getting louder. Artie wasn't what you'd call an established singer. He loved strumming out on his guitar, or even doing wheelchair dance moves. But he was sure that the voice was one thing. _Absolutely out of this world badass smoothness! Did Rachel get a sore throat or something?_ Artie was sure he had never heard the voice before, no one had every sounded so transcendent, even her royal ass pains Rachel Berry on a good day.

"_Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away"_

He screeched his wheels to a halt. There, in front of him, was nothing but an astounding and surprising empty space. _Wha?_ Where was the source of that voice? Then he noticed something. _The windows open. That explains the draft._ WAIT. The windows in the library were never open, not after Mrs Penrose got attacked by that raven. But there it was. Open. And beckoning from it was that wonderful sound.

"_Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru, in llama land there's a one-man band and he'll toot his flute for you. Come fly with me, let's take off in the blue"_

Artie arrived at the window sill, bewilderment in his eyes as he saw something resting on it. A little ebony music player, about the size of a cube. _So that's where the music is coming from, but what about the vocals? Hmmm?_ A piece of paper next to the music player? 'OPEN ME' Artie wasn't born yesterday, this seem like a set up.

_Ah what's the worst that could happen?_ _I still have my spare glasses. _However, he still cautiously opened the solitary note on the sill and brought it to his eyes.

'_FIRST CLASS OR COACH?' What in the name of the Pillar of Autumn? _

"_Once I get you up there, where the air is rarefied, we'll just glide, starry-eyed"_

_BEHIND M….. _It's always nice to have a complete thought. However, it's not very easy to have one when a voice uses its hands to smack your glasses off and clamped its hands over your eyes.

"_Once I get you up there I'll be holding you so near, you may hear the angels cheer because we're together"_

_WHAT THE FU… _ And believe Artie, it's even harder to have a complete thought when a voice has grabbed you out of your wheelchair with such ease and has lifted you directly towards the window.

"_Weather-wise it's such a lovely day!"_

But of course, and take it from the smartest nerd in the school, it is impossible to even have a single thought at all when you've just been thrown out a window. From a height. Three stories in fact. And it's so hard, you don't even have time for a last thought, just time to feel your senses. Feeling the wind rushing, pulsating with blood throughout, seeing the world blurring and hearing your neck SNAPPING. You don't think anymore, you don't feel, you just lie there, broken neck and all.

"_Just say the words and we'll beat the birds down to Acapulco Bay"_

The voice looked out the window and down upon its latest creation. A boy on the grass, in position you never thought possible. Hands twisted, legs actually bent, and the coup de grace, a slanted neck, with the dark red blood oozing out, inking the gruesome scene. _Oh how sad, a suicidal note!_ The voice thought cruelly as it fished out a typed out note from its pocket. A technical man would have a technical suicide note, and as it slowly floated down next to the body of the lifeless Artie Abrams, the voice merely sang. Sang out the song, the swan song on the New Directions. Death would follow the voice wherever it went.

"_It's perfect for a flying honeymoon, they say. Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away!"_

* * *

_**Another one bites the dust. Poor Artie. =( I have actually realised I'm gonna lose more readers throughout, because to more I write, the more favourite characters I kill off, the less people want to read, so please keep reading to see who the killer really is! Any guesses yet? I wanna hear em! Reviews optional, your choice folks. Hope you enjoyed and have a Merry Christmas!**__  
_


	3. Cry Me a River

**Hi all! Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! It's Boxing Day where I am now, and I hope this all finds you well and not drunk on eggnog. =D ENJOY!**

**OOPS! Forgot to even state whats even going on! This is based in Season One, with a slight twist. Sorry, no Tike, Bartie, Quam, Klaine, nor Sam or Blaine =( Don't want to go in over my head with the relationships part, so trying to work with that many feelings = very brain dead DrPQJazz =P Sorry folks.  
**

* * *

News spreads fast in McKinley High. Whether it was the cafeteria serving prison food or Sue's Physical video, you could expect the entire student population to find out about anything with haste. But death had a different way of announcing its arrival, in this case the Lima Times.

_A local boy, Artie Abrams, was found dead today on the premises of William McKinley High School. He was 16. Officers responded to an anonymous 911 call this morning, and found the body at around 8:34. Police are currently investigating, but based on primary on the scene evidence, the victim had committed suicide from the third floor library. _

Suicide. Painful word to hear, especially when it was one of their own. Their friend, their perfectly fine friend, who spent 2 hours yesterday explain to two girls and a guy about unicorns. Dead, and it was his own choice. And they felt the burden on them now.

School had been cancelled due to investigations, and Kurt and some of the girls were in his basement, just huddled up together to get each other's warmth. The death had already stolen too much from them. Silence had been all they could hear, like a sickening sound that was choking them all.

"Where's Tina?" Mercedes finally broke the silence with the obvious question.

'She…didn't pick up her phone; I tried for a while but well…" Kurt manages to stumble out as he blames himself. _Could I have caused this? Could I have stopped this? _Different minds, same question, same accusations. Quinn just sobs in the corner, with Brittany beside her in pale shock with Santana doing everything she can to wake up the blonde from the nightmare of loss. Rachel, head in her hands, furious that she wasn't a better friend, that she should have given Artie a solo, maybe just once. And Mercedes and Kurt? Mercedes wasn't the closest person to Artie, but he damn well was her brother from Glee Club. A dead brother, like a blood stain on the snow.

Kurt just sat there, pensively, but he wasn't sad, oh no. He'd already grown accustom to death, his mother had died when he could barely understand the world and he had always heard about gays being beaten up and getting killed just for liking other men. Disgusting, yes, but those just strengthen his defences against the cold world of loss.

"Why did he even want to kill himself?" Quinn barely squeaks out to the floor as she gets up to run to the toilet. It's already the fifth time she's been there, but four walls around her gives her the comfort that she needs to cry harder. Her security. Rachel leaves after her, she has to go for her ballet class, if you call hiding in your car's backseat to cry as practising a heel pivot. Mercedes needs to go home to get over this, to stuff herself till she can't fell anything.

"Will he be back?" Kurt and Santana look up at Brittany. They just smile at her. It's all they can do now.

* * *

Tina didn't get out of bed this morning. She didn't need to check her SMSs. She already heard it as people passed by her house, she heard them talk, and she heard them all. _Why isn't it raining she though as she heard t_hrough her scared ears and tear-coated face, illuminated in her sun soaked room.

"…school's cancelled…."

"…not sure….dead guy…"

"…DAMN!...shit, suicide?"

"…..crippled dude…"

Tina's been frozen there since. Not much more to live for herself. Artie was dead? Was he? He didn't need to die, have to die, want to die. _ I love him, loved him._ The celling looked so pretty to her today. It was just plain white, clean. She just kept looking at it, mind as a racing car, down a track of her own fear and hurt. _WAS IT ME? Maybe it was? Not moving, not going to. I just want yesterday now._

"_Now you say you're lonely, you cried the long night through"_

Tina couldn't even freeze any more than she already was. Melancholy had appeared out of nowhere. It was sad, never mind the quality. She cared more for the emotion, the soul if you would, of a singer. This one was tormented. And it was coming from her bathroom. _I don't believe it. An emotion has manifested itself in my toilet. Wonder if it's coming from the bathtub or the toilet bowl._

"_Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river, I cried a river over you"_

_Ok, it's definitely the toilet bowl._ Tina eyes moved towards her toilet. The door was ajar, with a crack visible and emitting the melody of sadness. She knew it was crazy, toilet bowls don't sing. She knew if she'd just stay there, the music would fade and she'd be back in her silence, her staring, her thinking. But thinking leads to sorrow. And sorrow leads to more tears.

"_You drove me, nearly drove me, out of my head, while you never shed a tear"_

She had to see. _ I have to see. She had to understand. _ I have to understand. She had to know. _I have to know. _She had to know the origin of the sadness, the reason, the cause, why is it affecting her, that voice and why her and Artie. Why the man she loved, why did he die, why not her. _My legs are numb, shouldn't have lied down for that long._

"Remember, I remember, all that you said"

She grew closer, closer, till she was standing at door. She could her that voice on the other side. Inside her toilet, was the answer to her sadness there? The cause, unknown to her. _ I want to know. _Too many uncertainties, too much insecurity, maybe her now magically emotion infused toilet bowl could give her an answer. Her hand outstretched, she nudged to gates to the unknown open, and saw darkness. _Oh yea, the lights switch._

"…"

Light basked her porcelain covered restroom. Empty. Except for a sink, mirror, toilet bowl, bathtub, amenities, mysterious black cube shaped mp3, note attached. _Oh, the music's coming from that. That's not mine. _She lifted up her feet, closer, closer, to the black box and the note, perched on top of her toilet bowl. _ A note, maybe it says 'Don't Worry'? Did someone in the club do this? _Was hope in that note? She took it and opened it, awaiting words that would illuminate the dark. But she wasn't at all expecting to see "BREATHE" on the note. And she wasn't at all expecting to find her head in the toilet bowl, forcefully pushed down from behind her.

"_Now you say you love me" OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH AIR AIR AIR WHAT THE HELL IS THIS GOD AIR AIR AIR UP U UP WHOS PUSHING ME NEED AIR "Well, just to prove that you do" OH GOD CANT GET BACK UP KICK KICK FLAIL FLAIL AIR AIR GOD god need air why who what oh god god god what air help help help help help air "Come on and cry me a river" cant no why weak argh a ir n eed a I r h el p me h e l pp ne ed ai r ar n e ee eeddddd "Cry me a river" dddd_

The body finally stopped kicking. The voice smirked as it released its grip slowly from the girl's neck. That wasn't as easy as the first two, but the job was effective. The job was done. And now, all that stood, well, in this case, had its head shoved inside a toilet bowl was the drowned body of one Miss Tina Cohen-Chang, the girl who had just lost her love. And now, she had just lost her life.

"_I cried a river, over you."

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_

**3 down folks, a patern is beginning to emmerge, or have you read the story's title? XD**

**All comments about this story is welcome, and whether this will be regular or not, we'll see. =D And also, not shipping anyone, but will one chracter that will stand out more than the others, he/she/it/the Mayans will be revealed in the next chapter. Cheers. =)  
**


	4. Hey Big Spender

**Hi again folks. I'm not sure how often Im gonna put up the chapters, but I'll try my best. School's starting soon, and I just hope when it restarts I'll still be able to write some more. 3 more days (Where I am) to the new year! ENJOY!**

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Noon time, that's lunch time. Lunch time at Breadstix is normally is the call of celebration, like Brittany writing her name correctly on the first try, but when your friends dead and you're feeling like crap, reason is the least of your worries for a cheer up.

"Mercy, if you keep eating that many of those high-carb bread sticks, we will have to go back to the mall to get you a new wardrobe, no offense there and no complaints on my part." Mercedes looks up at her friend, almost glaring with an animalistic glare of _FEED ME OR GET SAT UPON BY ME_.

"Gee, a simple 'Nu-uh!' would have suffice you know!" Kurt slumps back in his chair as his friend, who could soon be eating the world's reserves of bread sticks, returns back to her warpath of baked wheat sticks. Kurt had been the least affected by the news emotionally, so he offered to take Mercedes out to lunch after he found her trying to cook tots with a boiling pot. Kurt already understood how the rest of the club would take the news, sobbing, wailing and blaming themselves for it. He did too, guilty as charged, but he wanted to know why. Why his friend would have wanted to throw himself of a building and according to Jewfro's blog, apparently listening to jazz at the same time.

_Ok, there's no way that Artie was listening to jazz as he took the plunge, it's not his style, not his era and definitely not his image. That boy wore so many sweater vests I swear sheep filed restraining orders against him._ Kurt knew something was wrong. Death was painless, death was easy when you wanted it to, but death is different for everyone. It comes differently for brothers and sisters, and Artie's death was not his own choice. _What if…._

"What if he was murdered?" As the bread stick in Mercedes hand falls and makes an inaudible clack on the table, she almost gulps as she looks Kurt in the eyes. Was that hope in there? Or was that hate? Her eye's sets their sights on Kurt's own as they both sit there in an awkward silence of finger pointing.

"Kurt, this isn't the best time to say someone went to off one of my homeboys." _If her reply were any nicer, she'd might as well take a wrench and hit me with it, because girlfriend be mad!_

"Sorry Mercy, I guess I'm just…"

_DON'T TELL ME NOT TO LIVE, JUST SIT AND PUTTER. LIFE'S CANDY AND….._ Kurt fished for his phone, even Mercedes knew it was from Rachel as he unlocked it and just stared into that ebony phone. Horror. Kurt only did horror when he saw his hair out of place during the last big storm, he doesn't do horror for messages.

"What is it White Boy?" Did Rachel want a Glee send off for Artie? Even if it was Mercedes knew that Kurt would still find it tacky, and then somehow incorporate designer bags into it. She didn't expect an obituary.

'TINA'S DEAD. PLEASE CALL ASAP - RACHEL.'

* * *

The voice was crouched in position, poised to strike. Its eyes widen as it sees its next target saunter into the locker rooms, its mouth ajar in anticipation. _So we begin again._ It presses a button, as the melody plays.

"_The minute you walked in the joint, I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender"_

The boy sudden stops in his tracks, almost welded in place as he slowly monitors to room. _No point looking Azimo, the room's empty. It's just you and me. And the instrumental music, of course._ Almost like a predictable movie, the boy shrugs and begins to leave again. The voice scuttles on the floor, quickly ducking behind another row of lockers. _Timing, timing, timing. About…now._

"_Good looking, so refined. Say, wouldn't you like to know what's going on in my mind?"_

"Who the hell is that? Come out now man!" The boy actually begins to sweats as he shouts to the empty room. The boy can actually begin to taste his fear. The prey realises, this could be some sick joke, that there is some music coming from his locker. _Yes, perfect! The timing is absolutely perfect! _The voice grins maniacally as it belts out once more.

"_So, let me get right to the point, I don't pop my cork for every guy I see."_

"What the hell….." His prey slowly inches towards the blast zone. _Yes, closer, to your impending and obviously painful death._ Finally, he reaches the red locker of death. _Oh, I didn't notice the irony. _"Dave, what the hell are you pulling…?" 2…..12…94…. The prey enters his birthday, simple code. But sometimes, it's better to have a complicated code based on equations. Why? So you will forget them. Like Azimo should have. Before….

"_Hey, big spender, spend..."_

BANG! A pistol at short range like that would have been fatal. A shotgun at short range like that would have been deadly. A shotgun stuffed with coins at short range like that, well… _Oh, what a mess. Don't leave footprints, don't leave footprints. _The voice gingerly made its way to the scene of the obvious crime. _Quickly. _It drops a piece of paper. 'OUCH'. _Hey, if you're gonna leave them a body, leave one with humour attached._ Leaping over the body of Azimo Adams, riddled with nickels and dimes, it makes its way to the window.

After one last look at the boy, coins that jut out of his body, now glistening in the sunlight, it leaps out and lands squarely on the grass and starts to walk. _Three…..Two….One… _Shriek. Audible, but just barely. The music to the voices ear as it smiles. _Perfect timing. _It continues to walk around the school, the noon sun casting a shadow on the brick walls, back to the front entrance. _Time for number two. _It quickly pounces of to the next victim, with bloodlust in its eyes as it merely mutters under its breath

"…a little time with me."

_

* * *

Wait. Artie's too short to even reach the windows in the library. And, he's too uptight for Jazz. That just means….. _"He was murdered…." The boy stopped in his Navigator. Kurt brushes his hair aside as he slowly realises the awful truth. _I could be next…._

_

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_

**DUN DUN DUN! The main investigator for the story is revealed as Kurt! Will he get killed? Will he find the killer? Will everyone be dead at the end? Read on to find out! Thanks for reading! Hope you liked this one, this is the thoughts of the killer itself, rather than the victim. I'm referring to the murderer and his/her actions as it, in order not to reveal the gender. =D Keep on guessing, and criticism/favorting/accusations/reviews are all welcome. =) have a nice day!**_  
_


	5. Smile

**Hi again folks, thanks for the story alerts and reviews and likes! Hope it's not getting too stale or predictable, I'm changing it up slightly in this one. The character introduced isn't an OC, just a bystander to the carnage in Lima, Ohio. Hope you guys like it!**

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"Oh dear god"

Sergeant Iverson had been through the Iraq War, but nothing prepared him for this. There in front of him, was the principal of William McKinley High School, with his cheeks slit from his mouth all the way to the back on both sides, blood crusting and staining the man's attire and desk. But the worst bit, the man had his lips carved off, so it appeared that he died with a maniacal and macabre smile on his faced, splashed with blood all over, both dark red and black patches that just violated the pure imagery of mankind. It was absolutely sick.

"Christ man, you'd better run me through this one Captain" Captain Jones handed him a data file on Mr Figgins Theba, the now ex-principal of the school.

"Name's Figgins, 48, Indian American, started working here six years ago. We got a call about three hours ago from the secretary, who had just returned from lunch. We assumed based on his, erm, state, we'd better call you folks down" Iverson began to patrol the body, almost in an exuberant manner, checking for loose pieces of evidence. But deep inside, he was sickened to the skin by the state of the body. _This is a school principal for crying out loud, the worse was the Andrew High's shotgun incident, but this is just, wrong._

"Any camera footage?" Iverson pointed at the destroyed camera barely hanging by a cable in the corner. Negative. As expected, the body was so perfectly cut, no way this was going to be a sloppy. _And if this was suicide, well, I'm never putting my kid in a public school again._

"We only recovered one piece of evidence from the scene sir." Jones handed him a Ziploc bagged marked with the words CLASSIFIED on the side. It was a little black box, about an inch wide and high. Murder weapon this was not. _This looks like an MP3. Oh wait, here's the switch._

"_Smile, though your heart is aching, Smile, even though it's breaking"_

The voice bellowed through the bag clearly and sliced the air like a knife. "I checked through with the rest of the officers, none of them have ever heard this singer before sir" The voice was like a breath of fresh air in the literally dead room. That's when it struck the Sergeant. He turned, and indeed, the deceased corpse was smiling. _Oh Christ, this was a murder. No shit Sherlock, but that is the worse way to go. Poor guy._

"_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by"_

"The song continues, and there's nothing else on the box. We dusted it and this whole room for prints and anything else, but…"

"Nothing came up?" The Sergeant cut the Captain off, he already knew the answer. "Didn't think so, this scene, this body, this little box are the three little counts of a planned murder. Someone came in here, busted the camera before he or she could be seen and made a nice little slice and dice of the principal here." Iverson stopped his reverie of the plot. He sighed as he turned to the Captain, dreading the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

"_That's the time you must keep on trying, Smile, what's the use of crying"_

"You said this is the first of two bodies?" The captain nodded meekly, pale to the flesh at the thought of the second death. "And you mentioned on the way here that a boy committed suicide this morning, under as you described 'Pretty damn weird circumstances'?" _Good god, in such a tiny town? Three deaths in one day probably just lowered their population by 1%. And all of them in such a bizarre circumstances? _"And all of them had a tiny MP3?"

"Yes sir, but this was the only one with vocals, the rest just had music on them." This one box in the Sergeants hand was different from the rest, but why? _Were we supposed to find this box? Was this one a mistake? Or was this deliberate, and was this a message? Or even worse, a threat?_

"_You'll find that life is still worthwhile, if you'll just"_

"Captain" A brunette police woman popped into the room. "We, urhm…" Iverson saw the tears welling up in the young officers eyes. _Oh damn._ "We received another report on another death an hour ago, a kid from this school, she was found dead in her bathroom. A team has already been dispatched."

"Officer!" The young girl jumped at Iverson's sudden outburst.

"Ye..es sir?"

"Was there anything found on the body by the team?" Iverson marched up to the young girl and starred into her now quivering soul.

"Yes sir. A little black music player, sir." Iverson's mouth just gaped open at this news as he slowly turned towards the Captain, with his face more pale than before. "Captain, you'd better show me the bodies of all the deceased in this town. I don't care if they died with a knife in their head or of cancer, find them and report back." Iverson scratched his head furiously as he let out a defeated sigh. The town's officers shivering in their boots at the developments.

"You probably have, and this is only from evidence we have, a serial killer on the loose."

"_Smile…."_

_

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**Well, that's it from mr for this chapter. Sorry it's not as long as the others, wanted to add in a scene where Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel and Finn find the body, but I think I would be giving the game away slightly. =P Will be back hopefully with one b4 the new year, or one on the new year itself, I know now why people take a while to write new chapters, inspiration! hard to find murder inspiration, I hope you understand. Well, till then, reviews and any form of guesses are welco****me,**_** and have a wonderful new year!**  
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	6. Summertime

**Happy New Year everyone! Thanks for reading and thanks especially to Ella Greggs , who reviewed my first 4 chapters individually! Why can't of you be that awesome? Doesn't matter to me anyway, it stil cool that y'all read this in the first place! Wow okay, this chapter is a bit long, and the future chapters will probably follow this similar style, the viewpoints of Kurt (the private eye in this case), Iverson & E (The cops) and The Voice and its victims. Okay, have fun!**

* * *

Kurt looked on at the girl in the toilet bowl, motionless since he got there. _Drowning? Tina, why? _He didn't have much time to ponder, with the girl next to him about to faint, he quickly tried to catch her. Tried was the word of the day, as in trying to catch someone twice your weight. Kurt tried, but failure was imminent as he fell on his ass, followed by Mercedes on him.

"Rachel! Help me here!" Rachel, after sometime and with Kurt pushing with all his might, manage to roll the girl off Kurt and propped her up against the wall. Rachel, still looing dishevelled from seeing the body, didn't need a full body workout because strength never follows stress. Kurt could only look on at the scene: Mercedes, out cold and Rachel for once, silent._ Maybe more people should die if they shut Rachel up, maybe the jocks?_ Tina's parents had already called the police, and Rachel was called over because she lied just down the road.

"Why…" The diva, no the female one, whispered out. "..why did she do this to herself?" Kurt pulled the girl in to his arms as she wept on his shoulders. Kurt wasn't always the gentlemen, especially to Rachel but two dead friends does change your perspective.

"Rach, look" Kurt noticed something he shouldn't have. He noticed her right hand, and a small edge of a crumpled paper in it. He bent down towards the corpse of his friend and tried to shimmy it out of her hands. _No dice. Damn. Oh damn, I guess I'll have to…._ He pulled a few tissue papers from the sink and return to the hand, and he began to pry it open, much to Rachel's chagrin. Rigor mortis had already set in, with the hand making a resounding _CRACK _as it finally opened. Rachel somehow held it down; thankful she ate a salad at lunch.

"Do we really want to read this Kurt? That could be her final thoughts, about why she did it." Kurt knitted his brows together as Rachel tried to reason with him out of opening the note.

"After I touched her and cracked open her hands? You could have said that earlier." Kurt huffed. "And we should, as her friends" Kurt's logic was as obvious as the fact that they had a body in a toilet bowl next to them.

"Ok..ay" The two of them huddled together as the peered into the messed up paper. They shuddered as they read the word inside. _Oh Gucci….this isn't a suicide note! This is….a murder notice. Who did this to her?_

'_BREATHE'_ it read._ Oh my Gaga. _

* * *

"_I see you driving round town with the girl I like…."_

Santana hummed along with the radio that was next to her. She just got word that they found Tina dead in her toilet. It was already hard dealing with the death of, and she hated to admit it, friends, she had a second one in her lap in one day. Brittany hadn't been informed about any of the deaths, the Latino girl made sure that she was in her room today during the 'unicorn showers of death'.

_Dammit._ That's all she was thinking inside her tanning bed. It was tiny, it was cramped, it was a claustrophobic's nightmare. And it was where Santana would always go in times of stress, or in this case, grief. Grief over the loss of two friends, two people that changed her life. _Why did I have to be so mean to them? Because I wanted to climb the social ladder, duh. _She kept bantering with herself back and forth in her tormented mind. Pathetic. That's all she could think about herself.

CLICK!

_Huh? _"Hey! Who the hell turned off my radio? Mom, is that you?"

"_Summertime and the livin' is easy"_

_What the hell? Is that Jazz? _"Hey, turn my music back on!" No response came from outside. From the small crack from within the tanning bed, Santana could see a figure standing outside. "Eh _idiota_! Can you hear me? _Puede hablar Inglés?"_ No luck, as the figure just stood there. Then the figure bent down towards the tanning bed, and started to do something to it. _Okay, that's it. _Santana pushed against the ceiling of the bed. It didn't budge an inch. _Oh mi dios._

"_Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high"_

"Let me out of here!" Santana began to hit the roof of the tanning bed as hard as she could. _Oh mi dios, oh mi dios, oh mi dios, who the fuck is that outside? _She tried reaching out of the crack to grab at the figure's body, but after realising her hands were too short to reach the now fay away figure, she returned to banging on the ceiling of her toasty coffin. _Toasty? Is it, is it getting hotter in here? _She looked at her arm and the beads of perspiration on it. _Oh mi dios._ The voice had turned up the temperature on the tanning bed. It stood back as it listen to the cacophony from with the tanning bed. It cracked a malicious smile as it opened its mouth to sing.

"_Oh your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'"_

Santana began to cry as she heard the music and the song from the outside. She began to weep as she realised her skin began to sting more. "Let me out you bastard! _Déjame salir de aquí!_ Oh my god! Why the hell are you doing this?" As she continued to beat against her prison, which was now heating up, all she could do was scream. Scream like the preverbal scared girl that she was. She didn't care about how others would she her there and then. _I need to get out, I need to get out I need to see her. _She only cared for her survival. And killing whoever the hell was doing that to her. _I need to see Brittany._

_Wha..? _The roof of the tanning bed suddenly became fuzzy looking to her, as the sweat was now drenching her. Between spitting out sweat that was falling into her mouth and trying to breathe with her heavier breaths, she persisted. Through the pain on her fist, through the heat and thick air, through the fear of whoever was outside, she kept on going. _No….._ She kept on going till she couldn't anymore. Santana's Body finally crumbled to inside the tanning bed as the heat began to envelope her. Her breaths heavier as her vision faded, faster and faster. _Brittany…_ And her world faded to black, put the pain didn't for a while. Then, it all just ended.

The voice undid the lock it had placed on the tanning bed and opened it up. Before it laid a body that befouled the air with a burnt smell. The girl had died with the most agonising expression on her face, the last thoughts of Santana Lopez inside it somewhere. The voice chuckled. Chuckled at the sight of the dead girl. It reached into its pocket and pulled out a similar piece of paper and placed it on her eyes. The deed was done, to this one at least. The song picked up again as the voice opened up and sang out from its cold soul.

"_So hush little baby, don't you cry"_

* * *

Sergeant Iverson had enough for one day. A crippled student that committed suicide from a window, a principal that had his head sliced all the way, another student that was riddled with coins from a shotgun and now this. A girl apparently charred alive. She wasn't burnt, but the odour that emitted from her begged to differ.

"About time you got here Iverson." A man, about in his 30s spoke up from the side, typing furiously away on his laptop. Sergeant Edmond Bones, or E as he liked to be called was Iverson's partner. He finished up the report and closed his laptop, striding up to the older man that was staring at the girl. _Pervert._

"E, about time you got here. The local cops haven't been that helpful" Iverson lamented at the Captain that had not only bungled up evidence, but had given him the wrong directions to the crime scene. The rest of the force weren't any better, he hadn't received any reports from the local CSI, and with circumstances, they better have and fast. "What do we have here?"

"Santana Lopez, 16, found dead about an hour ago, estimated TOD, about two hours. From the looks of it, she put up a struggle." E pointed to Santana's knuckles, which her covered in blood clots. "Based off the lock I found on the floor, she was trapped inside, and someone turned up the heat" Iverson glanced at the temperature dial, which was cranked up to the max. "The stress and fear caved in on her, along with the heat and exhaustion from her attempt to get out, and she passed out and died."

_Nasty way to go. _Both men thought as they approached the familiar black box that was next to the radio on the table. "We found two similar boxes at the other two deaths."

"Figgins and Adam's?" E asked with slight apprehension. "I found a similar one at the crime scene I just came from, Tina Cohen-Chang, 16, student at the local school dead from drowning."

"Yup, and worse of all according to the guy that I was talking to when I got here, there was a guy that committed suicide this morning. Guess what was found near him?" E almost chocked at the thought. This was serious.

"A black box like this one?" Iverson nodded. "Alright hold up there, you mean we have a body count of five? And this is all in one day?" E asked out in exasperation as Iverson nodded again. "Shit man, we've gone in over our heads in this one. This isn't coincidental now, they're all found dead with a black box that plays a jazz instrumental. Iverson, this is an M.O. We have a serial killer on our hands, shit."

"That's not the only M.O." Iverson said as he noticed a familiar perfect piece of paper near the girls head. He reached to pick it up and waved it at E. "We found similar pieces of paper exactly this size at Figgins and Adam's crime scenes." E looked at it and swore. He had seen one at that girl's crime scene, crumpled up.

"What does it say?" Iverson passed E the paper as he read it and swore again. He looked at Iverson with a look of desperation. "Alright, we have a killer, do we go public with this? It's like five dead, that's enough to call in the FBI."

"Right now, just get the bodies back to the local station. Tell the local cops to suspend all school activities, seems like all the victims are from the school. Get a database of all the students and faculty of William McKinley High School and see if you can find any connection. And don't say a word to the locals, we'll call the higher ups tomorrow.' Iverson turned and headed for the door. "And E? Find the songs playing on each of the MP3s and pass them to me ASAP." Iverson turn and walked out, clutching onto the paper I his hands. _Dammit, who the hell would do this to kids? _The paper was the last straw for Iverson. This was Insane Land, with a maniac killing people. He looked down once more at the paper, and it taunted him in bold black words. _'Medium or well done?'_

_

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**Whew, that was A LOT. And yes, this is similar to the Final Destination murder, but not as gory, don't wanna put you guys off. Hope you all liked it, and unfortunately, school is starting soon for me, so maybe I can put out 2 chapters a week, if I'm lucky, but I am dedicated, AND I WILL FINISH THIS STORY!**** Like always, reviews are always welcomed and your opinions do affect the story (if I feel like it). =P Have a wonderful New Year!**_  
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	7. The Girl from Ipanema

**Hi guys and OMG! Thanks for so many reviews! Special thanks toHappycat13 for pointing out my grammar mistake of serial killer and mass murderer, it has been updated. Well, most of the reviews are either speculations or request for death, I'm only gonna fulfil one, and that's from the anon reviewer 'Jack Sparrow's number one fan'.hope you guys like this one and it looks like I see this story having 14-16 chapters, including a round up and YES, there will be a plot twist at the end. Whether its cool or not well, I dunno =P. Okay, enjoy!**

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Brittany had been in her room all day. All day, it was nine o'clock now. Normally by now, she would either under the covers at Santana's house or in a room somewhere with someone in Lima, not in her pink pyjamas stroking her cat. But it was all worth it. _Now, the unicorns can populate the world and I'll be safe!_ As Stubbs pounced off her lap and scurried off under her desk, probably trying to read her diary, Brittany fell back onto her bed and sighed.

_Santana hasn't called me all day. Is she busy at the place where the make drinks that make me laugh more?_ The blonde grabbed her hand phone and looked through. Brittany, although sometimes being as thick as the Great Walls of China and having an inability to use a computer, still knew how to use a hand phone. After a week crash course, of course. _Press the envelope, look at the envelope. Nothing's in the envelope._ Brittany face fell at the fact that the envelope in her phone had nothing blinking. She pressed the big red button and looked through the area with the book.

_San, Puck, Q, Kurtie, Becky, Home_

Santana, although being one of the HBIC of McKinley, didn't really introduce much people to Brittany, so her friend circle was limited to Glee club. Plus, not many people believed she knew how to use a hand phone, so all that were inside the book where she could talk to people only contained those six numbers. But the Latino's name flashed in her eyes brightly. She missed San. Even with the unicorns.

"_Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking, and when she passes __each one she passes goes "a-a-ah!"_

Brittany turned, thinking that it was Stubbs trying to sing again. Instead, what greeted her was a figure, clothed in jet black attire, with a mask on its face so that there was no way of seeing who it was under it. And this figure was perched on Brittany's window, on the second floor. The girl didn't even looked the least bit shocked at what was in front of her, all that came out of her mouth was "Are you the unicorn?"

"Uhm…you could say that" The Voice spoke out to her, for once unsure. "I'm a really magical one though, the one that spreads death." The voice was cold and firm, yet silky and smooth like the night. Brittany almost seemed overjoyed at the reply, but she didn't know that this figure had just killed her best friend.

"Oh! That's why you sound so familiar, you can change your voice to people I know!" Brittany smile widen as the voice, under the mask, looked more and more perplexed. Can you do Santana? I mean, her voice."

"Funny you should mention that Brittany." The blonde gasp in sheer delight as the black unicorn actually knew her name. She didn't really care that its Horn of Truth was missing, she had a magical unicorn in her room.

"_When she walks she's like a samba that, Swings so cool and sways so gentle, That when she passes each one she passes goes "a-a-ah!"_

The Voice began to slowly make its way towards the giddy girl, who had overdosed in her land of happiness, unicorns and scissoring. The Voice smiled underneath its mask when it finally reached the girl. It sighed, although it did kill, this was the hardest thing to do. The girl before it was so innocent, but it had to be done. It reached into its back pocket and pulled it out, brandishing it as it glimmered in the room's lighting. Brittany simply stared at it as it got closer to her.

"_Oh, but I watch her so sadly, How can I tell her I love her? Yes, I would give my heart gladly. But each day when she walks to the sea, She looks straight ahead not at me"_

"That's a nice flower" Brittany began to smile again when she saw the lovely red stalk of rose in the Voice's hand. It simply brought it down to Brittany's hands as she happily accepted it and sniffed it. _Mmmmmm, sweet. And bee-like._

"Hope you like it. That's from Santana. She sends here regards." The Voice simply stated as it handed the rose to the girl and headed to the window. The girl simply didn't deserve to die.

"I didn't know they called this flower a Regard." The Voice almost guffawed at the blonde's ditsy statement, but held it in as it reached the windowsill.

"Brittany, remember, none of this happen, okay?" Brittany simply nodded as she return to admiring the 'Regard' in her hands. The Voice simply jumped off the sill and back onto her lawn. _Tomorrow is a big day._ It thought as it removed its mask, letting the cool night air hit its skin. It continued as it sang out:

"_Tall and tan and young and lovely, The girl from Ipanema goes walking, And when she passes I smile, but she doesn't see, She just doesn't see, No she doesn't see"_

* * *

Iverson looked at what laid before him. Five pictures of the recently deceased, and next to each of them, information, statistics, a slip of paper, past criminal history (Figgins used to jack rides). But to each of the portraits was a black box, each with a song. But not just any kind or genre of song, a jazz song.

_Suicide, Shotgun wounds, Drowning, Face slit like a ham and partially Burnt Alive._ Each of them, dead with only a black mp3 and a few choice words or word near their body, with no finger prints whatsoever. This wasn't a case of a serial killer; this was an insane mass murderer case. _The M.O. doesn't make sense. Jazz and a witty comment?_

Iverson didn't want to call the higher ups, but this was serious, he had no choice, and they would arrive early the next morning, if they were lucky. But for now, the body count was rising, with more people from McKinley High dying in bizarre ways. _Wait a minute, bizarre ways? _Iverson quickly looked at the information on each victim. _Oh shit._ There was more to the M.O. than it seemed. He had to get E, this just got more serious. As if it wasn't already.

* * *

Kurt was in his basement, under his blanket, hugging himself as he rocked back and forth. It didn't make any sense why Artie and Tina were dead. Why would anyone want them dead? _Was it Jewfro? Nah, Tina could have easily kicked him as his Jew Cloud hair to ashes._

"Kurt?" Kurt looked up from under the sheets to see his father standing at the staircase. His face was painted with worry and fear. _Dad doesn't have fear, unless it's involving me or the cancellation of Shark Week._

"What's wrong dad?"

"I could ask you the same kid" Kurt looked like his Gucci collection was burnt by angry Wal-Mart shoppers. His hair was dishevelled and out of place, and his face looked sickly as death.

"Well, two of my friends just died in one day dad, so do forgave me if I look a little bit different" Burt's worried frown grew worse as his breathing got heavier, all picked up by Kurt's watchful eye. "What's wrong Dad? Is there something you need to say?"

Burt gulped as his mouth grew drier. He didn't want to harm his son, but he would find out eventually. "According to Jones (who lived next door to the Hummels), they found three more people dead. Figgins, some guy in your school and…" Burt swallowed hard as he saw Kurt's blue eyes begin to tear. He already guessed it before Burt could say it"…one of your friends in Glee. Santana."

Kurt didn't say much. All he did was get up and hug Burt as tightly as he could. He was worried and scared. And just in too much grief to even think, he needed the warmth of his father there and then. But amidst the tears, the head patting and the comfort that the father and son tried to find from each other, Kurt's fear grew bigger as he realised the scary fact: _Someone is targeting Glee, and probably _He cried even harder_ it's someone in Glee. _Betrayal.

* * *

**Wee! Brittany is safe and unaware! Didn't have the heart to kill her off =( Yes, Iverson's and Kurt's part in this chapter are short, but I think y'all rather read about a weird person killing people than the investigation. Next chapter will be another death, surprise surprise. But the victim wont be alone, so the mystery person will have its MO revealed! Who's it gonna be? And how will Iverson and Kurt look at the information? Tune in next update to find out! thank you all for reading this and I hope you have a lovely new year! P.S. Small referencing to Cassprincess's story Misfit Toy Hero Squad, have a read it's pretty cool =D  
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	8. I've Got You Under My Skin

**Hi lovely and wonderful readers! Just started school yesterday, 35 more min before I 'wake up' and head to my second day back in school. wow, didn't think I'll have another chapter out so fast, but seeing the reviews and story alerts, I was motivated to do this as a form of thank you to you guys for supporting. The next one might come out on Thursday, my local time, so this will have to tide you over till then. Also, some of the things i used in this chapter may be wrong, I'm not from the US so I'm not sure about how your police system works sry. So, ENJOY!**

* * *

Kurt had been staring at his ceiling for the last four hours, without a wink of sleep. After Burt had finally calmed him down and left, Kurt just tried to get to rest with music, blasting every show tune he knew. But that all failed when his battery ran out, so all Kurt could do was lie there and stare, stare at his nondescript ceiling. He was thinking. Just thinking about how those people affected his life. How Artie was a fellow outcast like him. How he and Tina were occasional bitch partners and how she was a perfect muse for hi fashion insults. How Santana, although being a bitch was the bitch who actually gave a damn about him in Cheerio'. And Figgins and Azimo? Sure they made his life hell, but now, they were probably in hell, and Kurt would never be able to even hear them again.

Kurt bolted up as suddenly, his mind racing with outcomes. _No, that means I was right the first time, whoever is doing this isn't coming after McKinley High people, he or she is coming after Glee!_ Kurt quickly grabbed his house phone and started to dial. Dial on his friends who were still alive, and might not be for much longer if he didn't act fast.

"What white boy? You can't be serious? Alright, I'll head to your place."

"I can't leave, the unicorns will be angry. Oh, you've made the unicorns happy? Then I'll be there Kurtie!"

"Me and Matt are coming after we finish this round. DUDE! It's just one round, we'll be there!"

"….kurt…."

Kurt's heart froze when he heard the broken cries of Rachel. She was actually in pitiful tears, and her own self imagery of stardom would never let her do that. _Oh god, I'm too late._ "Rachel, what's wrong? Rachel? Are you ok?"

"….kurt…finn…..finnn…." Rachel just sobbed louder; she didn't need to go on. Kurt's eyes began to well up as we finally understood. He buckled to the floor and began to weep again.

Finn Hudson was dead.

* * *

"_I've got you under my skin, I've got you deep in the heart of me"_

Rachel began to open her eyes slightly. _Finn?_ She had stayed the night at the Hudson household, after hearing the news of Artie's and Tina's death, she didn't care about her Broadway future and her inevitable rise to fame, all she wanted was to be comforted by her boyfriend, her not perfect, but wonderful boyfriend. And was he singing Jazz?

"_So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me, I've got you under my skin"_

_No way that's Finn, that's way too low for his voice._ She was a morning person, but the tears from yesterday had impaired her vision as she tried to strain her eyes to see. She still remembered where she was, Fin's bedroom, in Finn's bed, but for some reason, Finn was missing._ Where is he?_ Rachel tried to get up, not long before being tugged backwards. _What the… rope? And my mouth! _She tried to talk but the gag in her mouth just made her utter nonsense out in a muffled voice. Her eyes finally adjusted to the room's dim light as she realised what was going on. She was tied to the bedpost. And what was before her made her gasp in pure shock.

"_I'd sacrifice anything come what might for the sake of havin' you near"_

In front of her eyes, was her boyfriend, tied to a chair, with his crimson blood dripping down his bare topless skin. His face, painted the portrait of agony, hurt and fear. Finn had been cut badly all over his =bloody body of red and black swatches, which had splattered all over the room walls like decorum. Next to him, was a figure, tauntingly holding a knife, slowly carving its mark into her boyfriend as he tried to scream, but his gag only made him squeal like a dying animal.

"_In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear"_

_Oh sweet god. Who is that? _Rachel could now only look in horror as the figure belted out another verse. _I have to help him!_ Rachel quickly tried to struggle her way out of rope prison, with very little success. The Voice turned to see Rachel getting herself more and more tightened up in the knots. _Too late Berry. _The Voice turned to see Finn Hudson, star quarterback of the worse team in the history of Ohio, reduced to a bloody state of tears. His eyes were fading fast as he looked at the Voice with a look in his eye. Fear? Humbleness? It didn't matter now. _Goodbye _The voice thought as it opened its mouth and raised its weapon in the air.

_"Don't you know, little fool, you never can win? Use your mentality, wake up to reality"_

Rachel continued to struggle at the ropes. It didn't matter to her now that her wrist were hurting like hell, she had to save her boyfriend. But as she looked up, it all came crashing down. Just like the knife in the figures hand straight through the skull of Finn Hudson, as he convulsed for a few seconds. Rachel controlled her vomit as she saw her boyfriend's eyes roll to the back of his head and finally cease to move. …n_o… _Then her world faded to the dark depths.

"_But each time that I do just the thought of you makes me stop just before I begin '"_

The Voice released its grip of the handle as it look at its masterpiece. A boy, with cuts all over, and the piece de la resistance, a knife squarely stabbed in his forehead. _Brilliant._ It turned to see Rachel, passed out in shock, now crying in her stupor state. The Voice walked up to her and dropped the slip of paper by her bed. 'TIS BUT A SCATCH' The Voice chuckled slightly as it reached its point of entry, the window, and sat on it. It looked back at the knife in Finn's head. It didn't want to leave it there, it was brand new, but it sang out the last verse and disappeared. More to be done elsewhere.

"_Cause I've got you under my skin"_

* * *

Iverson and E stood solemnly over the evidence they had gathered up, each more gruesome and blatant than the last. In front of them stood one man, Nicholas Pegg, the Chief of the Ohio State Police.

"Nice to see you again Iverson" Nick nodded in Iverson's direction. "And you too E. But seeing that you two have quite a lot of evidence here, and the fact that I was called at 4 in the morning tells me this isn't your normal purse snatcher?"

Iverson winced slightly at the Chief's choice of words. Sure, the chief as a nice and casual guy, but murder, well that wasn't something you could just come in and joke about. Iverson took the five folders off the table and handed it to E, who in turn walked down the narrow corridor to Nick "These, are five residents of Lima, Ohio, who in the last 24 hours, have been brutally murdered" Nick took the folders and started to flip through them. His subsequent reaction made up for his earlier comment; he'd realised his tactlessness n the situation.

"All of them were found in odd circumstances, with no witnesses at each of the crime scenes, no fingerprints and no useful evidence to even ID anyone in the whole state's database" E nodded at Iverson run-by-run play of the murders, slightly jarring Nick. E was the best in Ohio at evidence retrieval at crime scenes, and if he couldn't even find one follicle of hair, that meant whoever did this had to be a pro. _Oh dear god_ Nick thought as he saw Figgins photo _nasty way to go._

"The most interesting thing" Iverson grabbed an envelope and 5 black boxes "was that at each murder sight, one of the following black MP3 players were found within the vicinity of the deceased." Nick thanked E as he received the envelope and the five boxes, each labelled with the victims' names. "There was also a slip of paper next to each crime scene, with a comment or word relating to the scene, for example, the girl Tina Cohen-Chang, folder 2" Nick took out the slip of paper that had a '2' on it "had on her piece of paper, the words 'BREATHE'" nick glanced at the folder to see the state of the girl, drowned in her toilet bowl. Nick twitched. _This better not be what I think it is._

"Meaning to say that you are suggesting that one individual had not only murdered five people in one afternoon in gruesome ways, but also planted out his or her M.O. at each scene? Surely Iverson, that is a bit of a stretch. No one could be that loony or…."

"Check the Mp3s Chief" Iverson cut into nick's defence. He knew Nick might have been slightly uncomfortable with accepting that an insane mass murderer was in a small town like Lima, but people lives were at stake, he had to go straight to the jugular.

After a quick listen through all of them, Nick simply turned to Iverson and uttered "they're all Jazz? Is this another M.O. or did the killer just like to listen to music as he or she killed them?" Nick just didn't want to see the awful truth. I mean, who did?

"That's what I thought too Chief, but I was wrong" Iverson declared as he strode over to the chief and arranged the folders open onto the table.

"Mr Artie Abrams died from falling out a window; his song was 'Come Fly with Me'. Also, Tina Cohen-Chang died of drowning, her song being 'Cry Me a River. Do you see a pattern here chief?" Iverson looked up to see a pale faced Nicholas Pegg.

"oh my god….." Nicholas utter as he reached to see the other folders. "Figgins, death with his cheeks sliced pen, his song was 'Smile'"

"Azimo Adams, died after being impaled by a coin loaded shotgun, his song was 'Hey Big Spender'"

"And Miss Santana Lopez" They both reached the most recent victim "She died from overexposure to the UV rays in her tanning bed, dehydrating her and frying her alive. Her song? 'Summertime'"

Nick just sat there as he slowly reclined back and exhaled loudly. This was no joke, and this was not a tiny incident. This was the workings of a seriously deranged individual. Nick pinched his bridge as he contemplated his next steps. "Have the local media been informed?"

"No sir, but they are currently doing whatever they can to find out, which included calling on the bigger media companies to Lima. Estimated time of arrival, this evening"

"Keep them busy, if they find the bodies, say they were suicides or something first" Nick finally spoke in an iron hard tone. "if the residents find out, all hell will break loose, and Lord knows what will happen next." Nick got up and reached for his cell phone, with intent of calling in the FBI. "E, try to find any other links to the victims other than that they are from the same school. Iverson, tell me if any more murders pop up and try to get me in touch with the second in charge of William McKinley High" Nick line connected as he walked to the door.

"Gentleman, let's go."

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**OMG Chapter 8 down and probably one angry reader, pvbgleefan, so so sorry =( Finn had run his course in the story, which is to say not much, but I do apologize sincerely for his untimely and very vivid demise. Well, we're about halfway through now. The plan is that the reveal will be in the 13th chapter, and that the story ends at chapter 16, but that's only if I don't die first! I will continue to bring the story to you, and hopefully, you all haven't guessed the killer yet =P Next chapter, another death in front of another person, a member of McKinley High is contacted, and maybe anotehr red herring? tune in next update to read! Cheers!**


	9. Me and Mrs Jones

**I said Thursday, I deliver. Well, I try to. Hope it's not too horrible, this one was REALLY hard to do. Add in a few pills for Giddiness and Nausea and you've got yourself a partially tipsy due to medicine guy trying to write fan fic. all in a day's work I guess. Enough of me blabbering, ON TO THE STORY!**

**OMG CHAPTER NINE! AND I HAVEN'T PUT IN THE DISCLAIMER!**

**-{DISCLAIMER}-**

**I, Dr PQ Jazz, of sound body and mind, hearby state that I do not own Glee or any of its IP, it belongs to FOX and Ryan Murphy. That is all. Cheesecake.**

* * *

"Are the unicorns still out there?" Kurt sighed as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. He had to fetch Brittany from her house because she couldn't drive. Unicorn probation or something like that. _She still oblivious that we're dropping dead like flies _Kurt mused. _Lucky girl._

Mercedes had already arrived at the Hummel household, and Kurt had picked up Brittany, still in a hypnotic state of horses that shoot rainbows from their eyes. Matt and Mike were on their way, and Quinn was still in the hospital, so there wasn't a need to disturb her, she was safe there. Kurt pulled up to the drive way and pulled off his purple gloves as he helped Brittany out of his Navigator.

"Are your driving gloves from Barney? Is that why he's not on my TV anymore?" Kurt was more shocked that Brittany even knew what driving gloves were.

"No sweetie, these aren't made from Barney, I'd kill myself if any real leather touched my skin. It's the fall collection of…"

"_We meet every day at the same café, six-thirty I know she'll be there"_

"Brittany, is that you?" Kurt turned to Brittany who just gave a blank expression.

"Yes, I'm Brittany. I thought I told you that before Kurt?" Kurt mentally facepalmed at the girl's naivety.

"No sweetie, as in is the music coming from you?" Brittany just shot him a blank look as the music got louder and louder. _It's coming from inside the house. That sounds like….a jazz song? A jazz song Oh shit.._

"_Holding hands, making all kinds of plans, while the jukebox plays our favourite song"_

Kurt fumbled for his keys as he undid the lock, busting through the front door, expecting to see someone hovering over Mercedes with a knife. "Brittany! Stay right there!" The blonde jumped at Kurt's tone but complied as Kurt began to search. The music was getting louder as he finally reached the staircase to the basement. _Oh please, no, please please no no no. Please let it be a coincidence, oh please._ Kurt slowly reached for the knob as he twisted it slowly, each note from the other side of the door pounding into his already jittered-up heart. He swung the door open, hoping for the best. He saw the worst.

"_Me and Mrs, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones, Mrs Jones, we got a thing going on."_

There in front of him was Mercedes, gushing out blood onto Kurt's room floor, staining the grey with the lucently dark red. Standing tall next to her was this figure, the voice where all the music, and the deaths came from. Kurt wanted to scream animalistic and charge in, but he knew it would be wasted if he didn't have a weapon. He reached for his scissors by the table and yanked it to face the assailant. But it was like he never was there. The figure had just simply vanished, along with a now open basement window. Kurt quickly dropped the scissors and rushed to Mercedes, the person who did this was the least of his worries now.

"Mer..Mercedes! Stay with me okay? You're gonna be fine!" The small boy blubbered out as hard as he could, tears pouring out of his eyes and into the pool of blood that graced the floor with its venom.

"…k…ur..t?" Mercedes managed to choke out between agonising coughs and whimpers. Kurt wailed a bit when he saw the display happening in front him no. _I can't lose her. Please, not her._ He couldn't lose his boo, not like this.

"…ku..rt….g..le..e…" And then she was gone. Just like that. Mercedes Jones ceased to exist. Along with all the hope in Kurt's heart. His best friend, now laid stone cold dead in front of him, limp and still oozing life. Kurt slowly reached for her hand and grasped it. It was cold and clammy. He could only mutter out his final goodbyes now.

"I love you boo."

* * *

"Iverson, we've got another three more" E said in a grim tone as Iverson buried his head in his hands. This was going horribly, and they still had no evidence after a full day of investigating and keeping the media away. "Not only that, but I can't seem to contact one of the teachers from the school, a Mr William Schuester."

"Hmm, I guess that means his curly hair has finally won the war of dominance over his simpleminded head and choked his neck and hid the body. I only knew it was a matter of time." A new person strolled in past Iverson and plopped herself down on the nearby office chair. E starred in disbelief at the audacity of this track suit wearing woman.

"Excuse me, who are you? This is an office for police officers and.."

"I'm gonna stop you right there chocolate bear" The woman held up a finger to silence the now stupefied investigator. "Firstly, Sue Sylvester answers to no one. I believe my records for cheerleading and waterboarding speaks for themselves. Secondly, I was called in to help you flatfoots by Sticky over there since I'm now Numero Uno at McKinley." Sue firmly clasped her hands behind her head and tilted backwards, letting her legs rest upon their work desk. Iverson could see the ire in E's eyes.

"Sue here will be assisting us in investigations E" E nearly gagged, but well, a job was a job. "Now, tell us about the three. I'll get the kettle on" Iverson walked to their source of life as E laid out three new documents on the already cluttered table.

"Firstly, Finn Hudson, he died with a knife through his skull, but not before suffering multiple cut wounds all over his body." E slid out a photo, one for both Iverson and Sue to have a look at. Sue merely raised her eyebrow, no doubt with a Frankenteen response on her mind.

"Secondly, we have Mercedes Jones." Sue's smile faded to a frown as she received the picture of her former Cheerio from E. _Too soon, too late._

"E, what we're their respective papers and songs?" Iverson called out over the kettle's whistle.

"Hmm? Oh yes, erm Mr Hudson had the words 'TIS BUT A SCATCH' on his paper, along with the song 'I've got You Under My Skin'. I trust you've been briefed Sue?"

"Of course I have Eddie, someone is going around off-ing the kiddies with awful jazz and then leaving a little quip by their freshly rotting corpses" Sue responded without missing a beat.

"Ok, that's one way to put it. For Miss Jones, she died with the song 'Me and Mrs Jones' on her black box ironically. Her paper was the mysterious one though, it read 'SINISTER', and we're still trying to figure that one out." Iverson and Sue both shared perplexed looks. This didn't really fit the M.O.

"And the third one?" Sue questioned the man. If it was another Cheerio, she would be on the phone to the President faster than Schuester's hair devours his brain with product.

E slid out the final photograph to Sue as she looked on with a glint of wit in her eyes. _Well, can't say I'm not surprised. Nasty way to go._

_

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_**Ouch. Mini cliffhanger there. Who got off-ed? Was it perhaps our hero? Maybe it was Brittany, who is still outside? Up for a ginger hair murder anyone? Whatever the case, someone dies in the next chapter (No shit Sherlock) and the time is ticking down on all the chracters as the killer gets more comfortable to kill with others around. Maybe, just maybe one more this week. Just hope so, because i am confirming, unless I want to make it cooler, the reveal will be in the 13th chapter, so keep your eyes peeled! Anyway, like always, reviews are always welcomed, apologises if Ive killed off your favourite character (sorry, but the die has already been cast) and Cheers!**_  
_


	10. Call Me Irresponsible

**SURPRISE! Here's Chapter 10, was suppose to be done next week but I had some time so I thought it would be nice. =) Wow, i mean I can't believe it. Ten chapters, about 15000 words between them all, and like 31 reviews and how many story alerts and fic favs? Uncountable (cause I'm lazy) Thank you all so much for your support so far, and i'm really glad you guys like it. Your reviews have been looked at and have been enjoyed, but unfortunately I already planned out the story, so I'm really sorry but two more people will die before this story is over, just pray hard it's not your fav characters. Sorry. X( Well, ENJOY!  
**

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"BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ"

A hand came down swiftly on the snooze button. Puck hated hangovers, especially the ones after binge drinking enough liquor to drown a whale from Peru. He hated showing any signs of weakness, after all, he was McKinley high's Number One badass with a Mohawk. But even Mohawks need to cry, especially after losing his only friends. He groaned as he swivelled slowly out from under the covers.

_Damn…. _Before Glee, Puck never did have any real friends, they were just the jocks he would shove into lockers and dumpsters and throw slushies at. _It was necessary to stay on top_ he always told himself. But when Glee rolled along, he finally found a place he could be, a place to belong, a place where he could still be badass, but do what he likes. And that places was slowly being burned in front of his eyes, disappearing like the ashes in the wind.

In his stupor, he managed to fumble for his radio and started it off at 88.1FM. He hated to admit it, but he liked jazz quite a bit. He hummed the song that was starting as he walked with a slightly stumble to the bathroom. _Damn beer. And wine coolers._ He finally managed to reach his sink without throwing up, just in time for the first verse.

"Call me irresponsible, call me unreliable, go on and throw in undependable too"

Damn, this singer is good! As Puck sang along with the voice, he started to do his normal morning wakeup routine. Wakeup, shower, brush teeth, shave, moisturize, yes moisturize. _How do you think Puckzilla gets all those hot girls with his smooth ass face? _Quickly twisting the knob in his shower, Puck stripped and jumped in, rudely awakening with the first spray of hot air and mist. Shit! My towel! Jumping out of the shower, he strolled back to the room, fully unclothed thank god for curtains and picked up his plain white towel when something struck him.

He just picked the towel from next to the radio. It wasn't plugged in.

_"Well, do my foolish alibies bore you, well I'm not clever, baby I just adore you"_

_What the hell? _He grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, the radio itself. The music was still playing as his eyes scanned the room furiously. There was jazz playing, but it wasn't his jazz. It was someone else's jazz. Someone who was trying to get him, just like the others. Puck gulped down some fear. He didn't allow himself to show much, but his quivering arms spoke for themselves. _Where is the music coming from? The bathroom? _Puck steadied the radio as a baton as he inched his way back to where he was. He gritted his teeth so firmly that even he could hear his own grinding. The pressure mounted as he quickly ran in with the radio, ready to attack.

"_Go on and call me unpredictable, tell me I'm impractical, rainbows I'm inclined to pursue"_

_EMPYTY? What the HELL! _"Where the hell are you? Come on out!" Puck could only shout at the three walls in front of him as he spun around to see only empty space. The shower was still running, but Puck knew he wouldn't be going in it anytime soon. The air was dense, and the bathroom mirror had fogged up. Still fearing for his life, Puck dragged his feet to it, completely afraid, because he knew and could see something was written there. He had to see it. But as he turned his head to make out the words, his blood went cold. His feet when numb as his mouth began to gap open and close, like a quivering wreck. For there on the bathroom mirror, someone had written "LOOK UP".

"_Ooh go on and call me irresponsible, yes I'm unreliable, but it's undeniably, it's undeniably true"_

He didn't even have to look up. The voice came crashing down onto him, Puck's razor in hand. All Noah Puckerman could do was watch. Watch on as a figure he knew raised the razor blade in the air, and how it brought it down and slashed his throat. He could only see himself struggle to breathe as his warm blood sprayed in every direction. He even saw himself struggle, the fear and pain in his own face, in his own eyes as he began to tumble down. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't really see now, all he could do was feel the blood draining out of him and spraying all over his face, and hear the Voice one last time.

"_I'm irresponsibly mad about you"_

* * *

"Noah Puckerman was found dead in his house, throat was slit." E said to both Sue and Iverson. "The weird thing was that we couldn't find any piece of paper on him or near him, only thing we found was that someone, my guess, our killer wrote on the mirror 'LOOK UP'."

"So our killer can climb walls and slash throats of kids? Great, now we can all sit back and blame the superhero comics for corrupting our children with ideas of death from above, just like a Rosie O'Donnell jumping from the 20th story on a car."

"Sue, we would really appreciate if you could cut back on the comments?" Iverson pleaded in his own formal way.

"Well then, why on earth did you call me here? I'm here to do what I can, judge, make fun of people and when the time is right, take over the world. But for now gentlemen, all I can say is that one thing is obvious: The kids in Glee are in danger" Iverson and E looked up slightly surprised at Sue's deductive reasoning.

"Schuester's missing, half of the glee club is dead, and the other two guys were somehow involved. I say we get the kids here and put them under lock and key and feed them nothing until one says they did it, just like back in the Ivory Coast Wars." E and Iverson liked the first bit, but not that much of the second part with the Ivory Coast.

Iverson grabbed his phone out as he began to make a few messages out. "My men and the local cops have been sent to get the kids. But we can't bring them here, too dangerous if one of them really is the killer." E nodded, almost about to say "That's right you dumb Sue". He still was pissed at the 'chocolate bear'.

"Then bring them to my school." Sue said, relishing the fact that she could call it that now. "we can hold them up there, it's a familiar place to them, and we can find any new evidence from their lockers or their secret hidey holes, those packrats are sure to have one besides in Will's hair." E cursed slightly under his breath as Iverson sent out another set of messages.

"McKinley High it is."

* * *

**And ten chapters down**.** Nine character deaths later and we're still going y'all! Gee, I thought y'all would have given up after the first chapter, but thank you so much for you guys reading and enjoying this! 4/5 more chapters to go. We're closing in on our killer now, and the question will always remain: WHODUNNIT? Next chapter will definitely come up next week, as it will be the LONGEST CHAPTER TO DATE. NO. JOKE. All the characters will be together, and so the fnger pointing will begin. but who will stay alive at the end of it all? Tune in next week to find out! Till then, thanks and cheers!**


	11. Luck be a Lady Tonight

**Hi folks and welcome to an early chapter release of Mack the Knife! decided to tide you guys over with a short preview to the chapter of ungodly length (for me to write) which will be out by latest Wednesday, Singapore Time. I'm really happy y'all like it and I didn't want to let you guys sit and wait that long for any MTK, so hope this is good enough till then. ENJOY!**

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The Voice knew that the cops were getting close. It looked at the lock to see it read 09:50PM. Time was running out on its plan, and too many missteps and mistakes have caused that. It shook its head as it got ready its tools of destruction. It reached for another black box and pressed play. As the song started, The Voice prepared itself. It wasn't a song for the dead or alive. It was a song for the events that were about to follow, and the repercussions of it all. It opened its mouth to sing again.

"_They call you lady luck, but there is room for doubt, for at times you've had a very un-lady like way of running out"_

Kurt answered the door at 10 PM to two police men, who asked him to follow them for 'protection'. _Protection, hah. _His friends were dying and most of them were dead, Mercedes was gone forever, and now they want to help? Kurt only looked at them with fury in his eyes and chagrin in his heart, but he had no choice but to go along. The road was damp and cold, as the patrol car skidded along. _It's going to be a long night._

"_You're on this date with me, the pickins have been lush"_

Mike was shocked when he saw two officers at his door, one of them being his neighbour. After a briefing and after Mike gathered his stuff, he was in the car headed to McKinley. Mike tilted his head to his right. There was Brittany, staring out the window. They were sharing the ride there, and Mike could only wonder in his heart what kind of girl was Brittany? _Could she have done it?_ Maybe there was something downright evil under her blank face. Mike gripped his pants tightly as the school was in sight.

"_And yet before this evening is over you might give me the brush"_

Matt kinda figured out the policemen weren't there for his stash of goodies. _At least they're bringing me to safety. _Matt was always the silent man in the group, he never spoke up. Not when they kept choosing horrible songs. Not when it was obvious Sylvester was behind the Glee club sabotages. Not when all the people he knew where dying around him. He always was silent, but maybe this time it would be different. The difference in life or death as Matt was dropped off at the school entrance.

"_You might forget your manners, you might refuse to stay"_

Brittany was sincerely surprised when the cops decided to separate her from Kurt. _Is Kurt a bad guy? _She just couldn't understand everything that was going on. Firstly, Kurt and Mercedes told her Santana was gone forever, which Brittany just thought was a long time. A masked person gave her a flower. Mercedes was not going along after Kurt told her she was gone too. And now, in a car, going back to school with Other Asian next to her? She glanced to see him tightly gripping to his pants. _Is he a bad guy too?_ Brittany could only hope that Stubbs wasn't reading her diary.

"_And so the best that I can do is pray"_

Rachel was still crying when she got into the car. Finn was killed in front of her eyes, his body still there when she finally got up. Sure, they moved him out of there, but the stench. The stench of death still reeked in her hair, and the image of Finn jerking around as the blade went into him? She could just cry as the car pulled up to the school. The song in her heart had died, along with the love of her life. _Why Finn? Why him? _She wanted answer, she wanted them now.

"_Luck be a lady tonight"_

Quinn was sitting up in her bed, watching _Grey's Anatomy _as her arms began to tire out. She looked down to see the handcuffs still firmly in place, locking her to her bed. She knew that the killer was still loose, and even though she was hospitalised, after pushing a baby out of her unmentionables, she was still a suspect for murder. But eight murders? She wasn't superwoman, she was Quinn Fabray, weak and chained to a hospital bed, with her friends disappearing. She nodded to the guards standing near her bed. _What kind of world am I in?_ The commercial break ended, and she continued with the show.

"_Luck be a lady tonight"_

Iverson looked at the clock. 10:30PM. The night was young, and so was whoever that did it. _It had to be one of those six kids. _A mountain of evidence was in the killers wake, and Iverson intended to bring the killer to justice. Too many people have died, too many lives dashed in an instant, too many people now living with the bloodshed on their minds. Iverson turned to face the five children now sitting in chairs in front of him. A choir room was the last lace he thought he's hold an interrogation, but stranger things have happened, like eight dead people in 48 hours. The girl Quinn Fabray was hospitalised, but she was still a suspect, so he had the local cops cuff her to her bed, just in case. E was back at the station, still trying to find any links between the dead. He only had Sylvester if things went wrong. _How much worse can it get?_ It was time to begin.

"_Luck if you've ever been a lady to begin with"_

"Welcome kids. Let's begin."

"_Luck be a lady tonight."_

_

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_

**The major player's have all been gathered at the McKinley High Choir room, as each have more fears than the next person, we're about to bring a close on the Mack the Knife series. Awwww, not long more before this ends. =( It's gonna end with a bang! (I hope =P) As always, reviews are welcomed, and the accusations on the reviews have been sound, most of em at least, but are you right? Who knows? I do =P tune next update to see the interrogation, and SPOILER HERE: The curtain is about to fall on another person... Who is it going to be? See you then! Cheers!**_  
_


	12. Stardust

**As promised readers, here is Mack the Knife 12! And MG was this huge and long! Hell, this has been the hardest chapter t write, I almost didn;t get this out on time. I had to actually write up a time line of the events that happened, and wow damn it. Realism can go flying out the window for all I care. This has been a very long journey of murder, jazz and unicorns. So I'm proud to begin the curtain call with this chapter. So please, ENJOY!**

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"Welcome kids, let's begin."

The other six in the room were almost stationary as Iverson walked in, his shoes filling the room with the clacking sound. Sue had arrived earlier to set up the room for safety measures, just in case anyone got a little bit too violent and started taking out a gun.

"We're sorry for the sudden request that you all could come here, but I think this a bit more important than your normal weekday night" Iverson reached into his bag and pulled out a manila envelope, watermarked with the words "Confidential". _It was time to get this underway. _Iverson slowly undid the string and opened the treasure trove of facts as the kids watched him pull sheet after sheet from the envelope.

"Brittany Susan Pierce." Brittany looked up at the man calling her name.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel." Kurt snapped out of his reverie to glance at Iverson.

"Mike Chang." Mike didn't even acknowledge it, he knew Iverson was just rattling the birdcage.

"Matt Rutherford" Matt nodded to the floor.

"Rachel Barbara Berry." Normally Rachel would be thrilled with anyone calling her name, but too many cuts have stabbed her heart, she just look at Iverson with sorrow in her eyes. Iverson placed the envelope on the piano and moved towards the kids.

"You five are the prime suspects in a current murder spree happening in Lima, Ohio." Iverson crouched next to Matt as he leaned in closer. "One of you is a murderer." Matt flinched slightly at the animosity. Iverson hated doing this to kids, but enough was enough, he had to bring down this crazed psychopath, before it was too late. "Yesterday, at approximately 08:34, one of your classmates that was in your club, Mr Artie Abrams, was found dead her in school, apparently due to suicide." Iverson waved a picture of Artie's body in front of them and threw it to the ground, stopping short of Kurt's feet. The kids stared mortified at it, before Rachel broke down in a few tears. Sue grinned slightly at Iverson's techniques. _I would have thrown the piano at them by now._

"HOWEVER!" All the kids jumped at Iverson's sudden outburst. "After further analysis, we determined that Mr Abrams could not have reached the tall window due to his handicap." Kurt blinked slightly, waiting for the detective to tell him something he didn't already work out. "Foul play was suspected not because of that, but because" Iverson reached into his pocket. "Of this" He took out the first black cube MP3 they had found on Artie. He pressed the button and the jazzy upbeat tunes of "Come Fly with Me" filled the room, conflicting with the atmosphere. "Now, I don't know about you kids, but a song that relates to flying, and a kid being thrown out a window?" Mike looked up at the now menacingly looking detective as he bent in towards him. "I think that sounds a little bit of a murder now, don't you?"

Iverson backed away from Mike, who was already panting slightly from Iverson's face invasion. The kids were getting restless; Brittany was stationary as ever but Matt was shaking his legs, Rachel was still sobbing slightly, Kurt was adjusting his quiff and Mike was still breathing a little harder. Iverson proceeded to throw more pictures on the floor as the kids flinched slightly as each picture touched the choir room floor. Sue began to move towards the piano for a better view of the violence.

"Tina Cohen-Chang, time of death about 10:00 two days ago, reported in by you two" Iverson pointed at Kurt and Rachel, who started the recall the horrible memory of seeing Tina's body. "Azimo Adams, time of death 12:00 to 13:00 later that day" Mike frowned when he saw the picture of his former teammate, his body proudly showing off the coins that were shoved into him. _How?_ "Shortly following that, your principal, Mr Figgins, was found dead in his room! I mean the murder of a principal, that's something, now isn't it?" Brittany saw the picture of the man who scolded her for keeping the bird in her locker. _I hope the bird didn't do that to him._

"Finally, at the end of the day, a Miss Santana Lopez' Brittany suddenly glared at Iverson, waiting for an answer. "Was found dead in her tanning bed at 18:00" Iverson reached into his stack and started to pull out a picture when Sue rushed in from behind him and grabbed his wrist. "What the…?"

Sue leaned in towards his ear and began to whisper. "Unless you want these kids to start filling this room with their salty tears and drown us all to death in a choir room, I'd suggest you stop with the picture show and get on with it." Sue released Iverson's wrist as Iverson looked at the kids, one already in tears and two about ready to start. The kids didn't even care that Sue had just stopped the detective, they had other memories on their minds. The good ones.

"Fine." He muttered back to Sue. He didn't like getting his interrogation stopped, what more judged, but Sue was a hard as bricks woman, if she gave a suggestion it was probably worth listening to. "Suffice to say, five deaths in one day, all of them not self-inflicted and each body had a black MP3 like this one here and some short of calling card? These were all murders by one person." Iverson began to circle around them as Kurt started to shed some tears. Matt was grabbing at the hairs on his head and Mike was just breathing through the mouth. Brittany, surprisingly, had a look of hatred in her eyes, which not even Sue had seen before.

Brittany's eyes followed Iverson as he came back to face the five suspects. "This morning, we had a report by you again, Miss Berry, of another death, a Finn Hudson." Rachel's handkerchief was almost to the point of soggy. "Following that, about 2 hours later, another one of your, shall I say, Glee mates was killed. Noah Puckerman. He was your age, as the rest of the victims, right?" Mike glared at Iverson's jab as he took out a packet of tissues and handed it to Rachel. Her cloth was getting useless. Rachel nodded in appreciation to Mike as she began to cry more. "And to round off the murders for now, Mercedes Jones was found dead, not even in her own home, in your home Mr Hummel!" Iverson faced Kurt, whose ice wall was slowly beginning to melt at the insinuation that he killed his own best friend.

"Eight murders, two days, five suspects" Iverson pivoted on his heel to the piano. "One murderer"

"Excuse me?" Everyone in the room turned to Rachel, who spoke for the first time. "Do you actually think I'm a murderer, after I was tied up and witnessed one of the murders?" Rachel screamed at Iverson, her traditional class and grace completely gone with shaky legs and watery eyes.

"I wouldn't blame him." The kids were shocked to not only hear that, but hear that coming from the resident scarecrow, Matt. Sue seemed surprised that Matt could even open his mouth and have sounds come out of it. "You reported in Tina's death and you were there at Finn's house, what were you even doing there? I don't see any other reason than to kill him." Mat finally spoke up as he turned towards Rachel. She would have slapped him if Mike didn't get in her way to stop her.

"I was scared ok!" Rachel replied with disgust while trying to reach Matt. Iverson quickly rushed in to pull her off but she backed off herself, wiping her tears away as she composed herself again. "And I was tied to the bed by whoever did it, the cops had to undo the knots before I could even sit up! How the hell do you think I killed him like that?" Matt stayed stunned for the moment, realising his mouth was leading him before his brain. "Anyway, shouldn't you suspect Kurt? He was at Mercedes death and he called in Tina's death with me!"

"WHAT?" Kurt shot right up of his seat as he marched up to Rachel. "Listen here princess, unless your brain has finally been corrupted by your thoughts. Brittany was with me when Mercedes got killed and you could have done that too!" Brittany nodded as Mike reached to grab Rachel from clawing out Kurt's face. Iverson stepped in at that point to speak up, but before he could, he was taken over by a flash of red.

"LISTEN UP YOU INFANT HOWLER MONKEYS!" Sue bellowed at the occupants of the Glee choir Room. Iverson stayed silent as Sue-zilla went on her rampage.

"Six of the eight dead bodies that we have are from your little Glee club, and since Figgins was an ass as well as Azimo, I'd suspect it had to be one of you. Lady!" Kurt acknowledged his nickname, as much as he hated it. "You couldn't have killed Whoopi, true, but you sure could have stabbed Frankenteen in the head. And you Streisand! You can't have killed Frankenteen because you were tied up in your sado-masochism game you were playing with him, and you couldn't have reached his head, you're a midget." Rachel was about to open her mouth to shriek at Sue, but Sue already continued her ramblings. "Other Asian! You and Shaft there could have reached Frankenteen, as well as you Brittany, but I'm sure as hell one of you did it. Come on fess up! I don't have all day, I still got to go find Schuester's body to pee on it."

"Mr Schue is still missing?' Brittany asked the coach as she nodded. "Is he dead?" No one in the room knew what to say to her. She had already lost her best friend and most of her friends, but her teacher as well? Kurt sat next to her and grabbed her hand.

"We don't know yet dear, but I think he's in a good place now." Kurt comforted her with truth in his voice and calmness in his eyes. Brittany only nodded at him as she leaned in to him.

"What about Quinn?" Mike spoke up for the first time." She could have done it too?"

"We've already made a bed arrest for Miss Fabray, Mr Chang." Iverson answered before Sue could. "We have determined that she could not have killed the victims in her current state, but she could have influenced it, which is why she is under bed arrest, but not under suspicion of murder." Mike could only sit back down as the others around him cursed under their breaths, the heat was on all of them.

"Now, if you would all calm down, including you sue, you're here to help, not hinder this investigation." Sue was about ready to punch his snotty little face but Iverson quickly made it to the piano to get another envelope from his bag. He pulled It out to reveal more papers. "Now, before you guys came in, we took statements from all of you, as well as previous statements from the earlier killings Mr Hummel and Ms Berry."

"Sue and I have looked through them all, and I'm sorry to say that one of you is a lying killing bastard!" the kids didn't even look shocked at the bleeding obvious. "Some of your statements contradict, so we're gonna look through them now. Starting with you, Miss Pierce." Iverson grabbed a chair as he placed it right next to Brittany and sat on it, both people giving off intense glares.

"Miss Pierce, you said the last time you saw Miss Lopez was at 13:00 yesterday, where she and I quote 'told me to stay inside because the unicorns were coming'. But you left your room today at 11:00, when Mr Hummel here told you that the 'unicorns were gone' doesn't this mean that you could have left your room between those times and have killed off your Glee mates?"

"I couldn't even go out of my room without my mom's permission, and I didn't do anything to anyone, not even Santana!" Brittany raised her voice at the accusation, which even Sue was partially scared by.

"What about your window then?"

"I don't know how to climb out of windows." Iverson turned to Sue, who nodded. Iverson sighed as he gave up on the ditzy blonde and moved to the Asian kid.

"Mr Chang, you have a witness here, Mr Rutherford, who says you two were playing games at the time of Figgins, Adams and Puckerman's murders, but can you confirm this?"

"Dude, I didn't kill anyone! And no, I can't but I swear we didn't do it!"

"Likely story. And you Mr Rutherford, were you lying to the cops about this? You know its perjury if you're covering for Mr Chang."

"I wasn't lying, ok? Mike and I were really just playing games, not killing our friends, so just back off ok?" Matt retorted at the detective in his irked stage.

"Mr Hummel and Ms Berry! Before you go at each other's throats again, can I just ask did you find Tina Cohen-Chang's body, or did you cause it?" Kurt and Rachel seemed indignant at the question, but Rachel stopped Kurt so that she could answer the detective.

"No we did not kill her, we were told to go there by her sister, when she couldn't not get in and after we couldn't either, we busted in along with Mercedes, we did not kill her." Rachel said in a huff and glared at Matt before sitting down.

"Oh ok. That's absolutely perfect1" Iverson waved his hands in the air as he backed away from the kids. "So none of you did it? Well then, that means one of you still is lying, and we're not leaving till we find out which of you did it! We can wait, I'll drag it out of you." Iverson stared at the kids, trying to rip the truth out of them with his glare.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

Iverson looked up to see nothing. The lights had blown as the room was filled with cacophony. Rachel was screaming with Kurt and Sue was ordering them to shut up. Brittany kept talking as Mike and Matt argued. Suddenly, a clinking sound was heard that came from the door. Iverson turned to run to it, only to bump into a figure.

"Watch it buddy!"

"Sorry Sue." Iverson apologized as they both reached the door, and they saw horror. Someone had bolted the door with a chain.

"I thought you searched the kids before they came in here Scooby Doo!" Sue began to shout, but not at all panicking.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked from the darkness.

"Sue keep it down!" Iverson whispered to Sue. "It must be from the room itself. We just need to find the kids and…." Iverson froze in his track. A song was playing.

"_Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely night dreaming of a song"_

_Oh shit! _Iverson head the voice, it was absolutely beautiful in his ears, but he quickly deduced that this wasn't a sing along, it was the killer.

"_The melody haunts my reverie and I am once again with you"_

"Oh my god…" Iverson heard Kurt mutter out as Brittany began to scream. Was he too late? "Kids! Come towards my voice, quickly!"

"_The nightingale tells his fairy tale of paradise where roses grew"_

"Where's that damn voice coming from? Can you all say your names?" Iverson deduced if the kids said their names, the killer couldn't sing, therefore they'd be able to find the killer.

"Matt!" "Kurt!" "Brittany!" "Mike!" "Rachel!"

The continued on, Iverson relieved as he sent Sue to go in and investigate. But all time stood still when the most horrendous shriek was heard as all the noise stopped.

"_Though I dream in vain, in my heart it will remain"_

"NO!" Iverson cried as he himself sped off into the darkness trying to find the voice when he hit into someone. The figure was cold and shaking as Iverson grabbed the figure fast, hoping to catch the Voice.

"_My stardust melody, the memory of love's refrain"_

The lights flickered back on as Iverson held his breath to see what the light would show. His hands felt wet. _Oh my god._ The lights flickered back on, and a scream escaped from the lips of one Kurt Hummel.

There in Iverson's arms was Rachel Berry. In a state you would never imagine her, for in her chest was a gold ornate star, firmly thrust into her as blood began to seep through her clothes and onto the floor. Chaos broke loose as Kurt and Brittany began to cry, Mike and matt trying to comfort them as they moved slowly away from the former diva's body. Iverson quickly lowered her down to the floor, only to see her eyes staring straight back at him, cold and pale. She was dead.

"Damnit Iverson!" Sue cried out as she grabbed a nearby cloth. Iverson could only look down at a girl. A girl that he failed to protect, a girl that was just steps away from him when she was killed, a girl that he could not save from death. Iverson closed her eyes as sue draped the cloth over her body. Iverson grabbed at his forehead as Sue went silent for a long time. They both turned to face the quivering mass in the corner, all of who, sae matt, were crying. Iverson could only go forward from here. There was still work to be done, there was still a killer amongst them.

"It's only you four now!" Iverson shouted at the kids.

"Which one of you did it?"

* * *

**ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST. Sorry to the Rachel fans, but I let her die with a gold star, hope that counts for something. Too many repeated words I think, my vocabulary got tested her in this chapter. Wow, that was hard, and its only going to get much harder in the next chapter. The four will get grilled even harder, and will the killer strike again? THE REVEAL IS COMING UP IN CHAPTER 14 FOLKS! thanks for all the reviews, story alerts and fav stories! Seriously, they have been the things that have been keeping me going through this period. Thank you all. As always, reviews are always welcomed and i can't fix a schedule for the next chapter, I'm sorry, but i'll try to get it out before the week is up. So till next time, keep on guessing, and cheers!**


	13. My Funny Valentine

**Sorry for the 4 - 5 day wait, CHAPTER 13 is HERE! Not gonna spoil it, no way. Just to recap, everyones dead. Cept for Kurt, Brittany, Mike, Matt, Sue and Iverson. Will one more person face the azz Guillotine? Will anyone stop the killer before itstoo late? Will the unicorns save the day? Obviously not. they're in Hawaii. Anyways, hope you guys like it, and ENJOY!**

* * *

Mayhem. That was right before Iverson's eyes as he stood up. He was in the choir room of William McKinley High School, at 11 o'clock in the frickin night. Next to him was the national cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester, looking as mad and as prissy as ever. In front of him were four teenage kids, crying their eyes out. Why? Well, maybe it had something to do with the fact that the bond that kept them together was their Glee Club, which was in Iverson's own words and thought, 'a waste of my time'. It could also be the fact that in the past 2 days, they had lost about 3/5th of their members to death at the hands of a killer. But Iverson had the sinking feeling the reason why the kids where weeping was because of the bump in the cloth that was on the floor below him, for it hid underneath the body of Rachel Berry, who was just killed minutes ago by one of their own. Yeah, that's probably why they were crying.

Iverson glanced at Sue, who quickly moved towards the door to try to get open again. In the mist of the earlier darkness, the killer had slipped on a chain of great thickness on the door, preventing any reinforcements from the outside. Once again, the door didn't even barge as Sue and Iverson stirred internally. _Shit._ The original plan of keeping it a simple yet brutal in terms of accusations had gone away. A suspect had just died, and now, he was down to four. _I'm gonna need to act, before I'm down to three._

Kurt got over the shock quicker than he expected. Seeing Rachel struggle like that was just so, heart-breaking. Kurt may have 'hated' her for stealing every solo but she didn't deserve to get stabbed like that, in the dark, all alone and in fear. She was still their glee mate, their ally. Their friend to the end, and her end had just arrived. As Kurt saw the detective what's-his-name pace up and down on the floor, with Sue berating him loudly, Kurt only could just sit there and observe. He could still see through blurred vision that Tina was crying, that Mike and Matt her helping her and no one really was helping him, and that the extra bulge in the cloth that was covering Rachel's body. _Probably the gold star that, sigh, pierced through Rachel. Oh Gaga the irony._ _Wait a damn minute!_ "Where did the star come from?"

The kids turned to Kurt, who just broke the silent treatment in the room. (Sue was the exception, she didn't speak she screamed) Everyone just kept silent, the truth still hadn't been forgotten: there was still a killer amongst them, unless Rachel could physically impale herself t death with a gold star larger than her hands. Matt eyed Brittany, suspicious of one or two things. Mike glared at his 'best friend', wondering why his hands had some blood on them. Brittany simply opened her mouth to say "I dunno."

The Iverson guy had grabbed his bridge and rubbed his face. "I thought we had these kids checked for shanks and guns Humphrey!" Sue had nothing but mania in her eyes and fury in her words. "Another kid? How long more are you going to sit down and waste my oxygen before I end up with that piano in my head and your face cut up like an Alaskan pig with lipstick, with the Oldies Station playing as we die?" The animosity between the two was large and obvious, Iverson looking like he was reaching for his gun to shoot Sue's face off, sue no doubt reaching for her hidden katanas.

"STOP IT!" Everyone jumped at the violent shriek that came out of Brittany's mouth. She clearly had enough. "Why are my friends going away like this? Why?" Her eyes began to well up as she cried again into Mike's arms. Mike could only pat her head as he saw the two adults guilty looking at the kids. _Coach Sylvester actually can emote?_

"The cheerio's right Ivy boy" Sue walked back to Rachel's body and lifted the cloth slightly towards her, to take a quick look at the star. A golden ornate star, the kind you'd find on a Christmas tree. Sue dropped the cloth back on the body and walked up to the kids. No one expected her to pick up Matt and throw him against the wall, even Iverson reached for his gun.

"How did you stab Berry, Shaft? Huh?" Sue had Matt up against the wall, grabbing his collar and almost 3 inches from his face. Matt looked absolutely terrified as the coach looked like she was going to bite into his throat and drink his blood. Mike wanted to jump in but, well, it was Sue Sylvester. Kurt, however, didn't really think as he pulled matt away from the menacing track suit. Iverson brought his gun up to eye level as Sue tried to go at the boy again.

"Explain yourself Sue! We're supposed to find a killer, not threaten the kids!" Iverson shouted at the 29 (really?) year old lady who looked as if she was about to lunge at Matt again. Sue moved towards Iverson, but not at a 'I'm-gonna-eat-your-soul pace, and back to Rachel, where she pulled the cloth away. The glee club looked away as Iverson stared once again at the girl he couldn't save

"Adler, 97. This star has been in the school for a while, meaning that it was in the room before we came in." Sue pointed at the star, which Iverson bent down to look at. Sure enough, the star read 'Lillian Adler, 1997' "The name on the star was the in-charge of glee before Schuester and Cleopatra. Since its Glee Club property, it must have been in Schuester's office, which as you can see, gumshoe, is to your right." Sue pointed to the now open room, which was next to the kids. "Shaft over there was next to the door, therefore it's only logical and my legal right as a Pinkerton to suspect HE'S A MURDERER!"

Iverson had to look at the logic, Sue was right. He reached down to his phone to contact the local cops outside, telling them to get the door frickin open again. He put his phone away, and then he pulled out the last thing even sue expected him to pull out. Handcuffs. "Kinky there flatfoot." Sue remarked as Iverson turned to the kids, who were now even more distant from each other.

"Ladies and gentleman, I have a pair of handcuffs here. The cops outside will get the door open soon hopefully. To prevent any more of people dying, I'm going to handcuff one of you. But you choose who I handcuff." Everyone looked at him, almost like Iverson had produced a baby from his mouth. "I only have one, so please, choose wisely." The room immediately went silent, as the staring began. Sue still stared at Matt, who was in turn staring at Mike, who was staring back at him. Kurt was staring at Brittany and the blood oh her skirt, Brittany in turn staring at the cloth. "Say who you want me to cuff."

"Lamont Jordan over there!" "Mike!" "Matt!" "Brittany." "What are handcuffs?"

Everyone just looked at Brittany. Then at Kurt, who had even suggested her. Mike and Matt were still deadlock with each other. Mike had just stabbed his best friend in the back. Not literally, but with handcuff suggestions. Matt had done the same, who wouldn't if you saw blood on your best friend's clothes. "Can I get in the handcuffs?" Brittany asked with Kurt seemingly seething at the suggestion.

"Really Brit? You want to get in the handcuffs? So you won't do anything more to us?" Kurt attack with as much barb in his voice as a drunken sailor would have. Brittany ignored Kurt's comments as she walked up to Iverson, hands in front of her.

"They're supposed to keep me safe, that's what Santana told me the last time she used it. Hers were pink and fluffy." The room went silent for the umpteen time that night, this time due to the possible fetishes of Brittany Pierce. But the point at hand was still that Brittany wanted to handcuff herself, Matt and Mike suspected each other though they were best friends, Sue was still blaming 'Shaft' Matt and Kurt believed that Brittany was a wolf in sheeps clothing that iked furry handcuffs. Vierson cuffed the young blonde and she returned to her seat.

"Why the hell did you cuff her?" Mike shouted in anger.

"Yeah Ivy Boy, you can't cuff my cheerio, that is in distinct violation of the Geneva code!"

"Sue, she asked for it! You too, Mr Chang. Control yourselves, or I will restrain you with other methods. "Iverson warned both the shouting parties.

"Cuff Mike! C'mon! He has blood on him for crying out loud!" Sue immediately ran up to Mike to inspect the boy. Kurt even pushed away the chair he was sitting on to look at his former glee mate, now prime suspect.

"Dude what the hell! You have blood on you too!"

"Shut up! You both have blood on your damn clothes. So, is this an East meets West collaboration of murderers?"

"You mean three-way Coach." Kurt spoke above Sue's roar with his high voice. "Brittany has blood on her too."

"Well then Lady, it looks like you're the only one here without blood on you." Sue sauntered with a glint in her eye to the purple clad counter tenor. "you a murderer Lady? Never knew you had it in you."

"Why I..bb…purple hides red, you just can't see it." Kurt managed to defend himself from Sue's assault.

"Exactly tickle-me-dough face. Never thought show tunes could motivate kids to go stabbing each other." Sue pushed Kurt back down into his chair, the later landing with a small yelp.

"Back off okay!" Kurt screamed slightly higher pitch than normal. "I didn't kill anyone! You could be the killer for all we know!"

"The guilty always suspects the great. It's in the scouting handbook, which I wrote and sold it off to those weaklings who tie ropes to trees. If you don't say you're the killer, I will use my secret ninjitsu that I learnt from the Emperor of japan and force it out of you." Sue threatened Kurt, who looked almost terrified at the woman's intentions. Iverson pulled Sue away, who shrugged him off.

"Back off the kids already, geez! Maybe I should have put you in the handcuff!"

"WHAT? Say that again ivy boy, I dare you."

"Stop the violence!"

"Not if you don't first Brit! Don't act stupid."

"Dude, what the hell, are you seriously saying I killed everyone."

"Are you? You said I had blood on my clothes. You do too, killer!"

BZZZZZZZZZZZZ! _Here we go…_

"Godamnit again! Fu..."

"Whichever one of you it is, just go away! Leave us alone!" Kurt shouted into the darkness, his voice breaking.

"Okay!" A gun click was heard. "Turn the damn lights on, right now!" Iverson raised his gun out in front of him, hoping to coax the killer towards him.

"Pipe down Flatfoot! The more you talk the less I can hear this scumbag breathing!"

"ARGHHH!"

Nobody moved. No one dared to anyway. The scream was so muffled that no one could tell who was it No one knew who was on their left or right, no one knew who would still be there when the lights came back on. Worst of all, no one knew if they would be there themselves either. Suddenly, another sound echoed throughout the pitch black choir room. But it was a button being pressed. Then, the music began.

"_My funny valentine, sweet comic valentine, you make me smile with my heart"_

Sue tensed up at the music, readying her hidden knife.

Kurt teared silently, squatting down to hopefully escape all of it.

Brittany tried to stand up, forgetting that she had handcuffs on, and slipped back into her seat.

Mike breathed slowly, hoping that no one would find him.

Matt readied himself for what was next.

"_Your looks are laughable, unphotographable, yet you're my favourite work of art"_

A figure in the darkness searched.

Another sat.

Another was hurting.

Another realised the obvious.

Another tightened its fist.

And the Voice began to sing again, the serenade of death.

"_Is your figure less than Greek, is your mouth a little weak"_

Sue Sylvester was many a things. Secret US Marine. General during the US war against the North Pole. Creator of the Iron Maiden and founder of the I -Heart- the shaving of Curly Haired Men club. She was not going to add murder victim to her list. She readied her knife in her hands, waiting to strike whoever was going to get near her. But as much as she touted herself to be, she was not an all seeing being in the dark, nor was she the last of the Canadian ninjas. She couldn't tell her left from her right in the situation. And with that singing? Sue grumbled internally. She swore that voice was getting closer. Her grip on the hilt was vice like, her body poised for a Mitsumi Stab, especially for curly haired men.

"_When you open it to speak, are you smart?"_

The voice was getting closer. Closer. She swore she could hear the bastard breathing through the filth filter it called its nose. Sue wasn't going to let it end like this no way. She hadn't become the President of the World yet, she wasn't going to die in Schuester's old room.

"C'mon ya dumbass, hit Sylvester where it hurts!"

"_Don't change a hair for me, not if you care for me"_

Then it happened. Sue hasn't shanked. She was moved forcefully. Someone had just grabbed her arms and yanked her backwards. Was it the killer? _No, wait, those hands._ She knew whose hands that where on her tracksuit. She knew that that wasn't the killer, Someone was trying to save her. _Wait, someone is trying to save Sue Sylvester? Sue Sylvester doesn't need saving!_ She wasn't about to complain, when the hands quickly whispered to her.

"Quickly, now!"

Sue didn't need to be told twice. The hand's voice confirmed her suspicion as she readied herself. It was time to put an end to this nonsense.

"_Stay little valentine"_

"HYAAAA" Sue thrust her knife forward, executing her Mitsumi stab to perfection. Connection.

"_Stay….._ARGHHHH!_"_

The Voice had landed with a resounding thud. Sue heard a noise of something crunching between the fall. In time too, as the lights slowly began to flicker back on. As the neon light lamps began to glow on, Sue waited to see what was going to lie in front of her when they fully came on. Which cockacidal maniac was going to be lying in front of her with a wound? She steadied her stance.

The lights completely flashed on.

A figure was on the floor.

Four others were in shock.

"I knew it."

* * *

**WHO KNOWS IT? WHO THE HELL IS THAT! GAH!**

**That's how I believe your inner monolougues are working right now, =D**

**Anyway, the reveal is in the next chapter. alright all you Sherlocks and Marples out there, can you figure it out? Will the killer be brought to justice? And of course, there is a twist, but what is it? what didyou not expect? GASP! The UNICORNS are the killers! Wrong. They're still in Hawaii. Anyways, Please be patient, k guys? Will get this done soon. anyways, good luck to Glee for the Golden Globes later, and Cheers!  
**


	14. What a Wonderful World

**Words do not begin to explain how sorry I am for the hold out, I assure you I wasn't trying to drag antici...pation out of you guys. Too many major assignments, too little time. Making games, not exactly a walk in the park. And damn you AVPM and AVPS from distracting me too much. Anyway, here it is, the reveal. the climax, the moment you lads and lasses have been waiting for. Who was right? Who was wrong? Will anyone expect this? Good luck, and ENJOY!**

* * *

The air was tight. Seven people entered the room that night. One was a killer, one was injured and one was dead under a tarp. But now, as the lights came on, everyone held their breaths. Except for the one under the tarp.

_Oh my god._

_I knew it._

_What?_

_Well, I was wrong._

"I knew it."

There the killer stood with a bloodied knife dazzling in the florescent glow. Everyone also noticed the blood was still fresh.

"..…"

Iverson was on the floor near the killer, his blood oozing out of his stomach, his face washed with pain and fear. Clearly, he was in no position to even sit up, or even leave the room with his blood almost running out, his face paler and paler.

* * *

Suddenly the doors flew open, three men in red cloaks rushing in, with moustaches long enough to open tin cans.

"NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!"

**This is how I wished the story would go. Damn you Flying Circus. (And no one will get this reference)**

**Anyway, back to the reason y'all are here…..**

* * *

The gasp heard around the room. Sue finally realised the depth of her mistake. She should have packed her chain gun. She turned around to see if her saviour was alright. _Damn, I have got to stop using that word; I'm not some long haired hippie from Jerusalem. If I were, I'd have bought Ice Mountain (COPYRIGHT) by now._

Kurt had saved the life of Sue Sylvester. Him. The little gay kid that got picked on had saved the biggest most terrifying person of them all. The lights had gone out, and judging by Sue's taunts, he knew that she was going to be next. Sue wasn't that hard to find in the darkness, even if you were deaf. He managed to pull her back before something bad happen. But he noticed in the darkness, the footsteps.

"Quickly, now!"

Kurt had saved her. But that wasn't as shocking as what was before his eyes. The Iverson guy was on the floor.

And in front of him stood the killer.

Other Asian.

Mike Bastard Chang.

"I knew it." Matt spat out as he removed his hold on Brittany, the other party who was scared out of her wits.

Mike stood there, knife, I'm sorry, really big knife in hand. And he just smiled, grinned at the situation before him. Brittany was still so confused at everything. Matt was fuming at his accusation, Kurt was ambivalent for once, and Sue? Well, she was silent. She was wrong, because for once the black guy was going make it out of this horror movie.

"Are!" Mike suddenly shouted "You all actually surprised?" Mike began to twist his grin as he threw the knife from his left hand to his right, playing around with it like a demented murderer. He had earned the title. "Are you all actually surprised that I, Mr Other Asian killed all your friends?"

"Of course we are you little shit!" Kurt shouted at the boy that stood in front of him. "You fucking bastard!" Kurt was lashing out as the tears rolled down from his eyes. "Why?"

"WHY? Why! Of course, that's always your answer. Why does everything have to happen like this why does everything have to happen like that? Why is a raven like a writing desk?" The insanity hit the fan at that point.

"What's a writing desk? Is it like writing pad?"

"No Brittany, it's like what you kill an teacher on, like ours!"

_

* * *

_

_Mike stopped the car by the forest and jumped off. He headed to the boot and opened it to find the now corroding body of will, still with agony flushed on his faced. He did even bother to close Will's eyes, he wanted to see the soul that died. Mike carefully tossed the body in the woods and walked off into the night. The car would have smelt of death and he didn't want to be anywhere near it._

"_All part of the plan" He whispered to himself and he strolled off into the night, with more than a spring in his step, a plan in his head._

* * *

"So Mr Schue is dead?" Matt asked.

"Of course he is, and I can't actually believe you all suspected him at one point!" Mike said, almost about to die with laughter. No one dared or even wanted to laugh along with him.

"And the next day you killed Artie!" Kurt fumed as he said those words. He was still surprised that Sue was still silent all this time.

_

* * *

_

_The note fluttered down slowly and landed on Artie's body. As Mike cleaned up the last of the evidence he quickly left the library with haste. _This was going to be easier than I thought. _He made his way to his pickup and put in the ignition key, and sped away into the night once again. _Hmmm, what about….drowning?

* * *

"But how the hell man?" Matt spoke up.

"Yeah! How the hell could we have not realised it was you?" Kurt continue with his barrage of questions. "We all saw you around and you were practically.."

"Songless? Without a tune? Unable to carry a note?" Mike shouted back with equal ferocity. "I dance alright, but did any of you ask me to sing, did any of you realise that maybe I wanted to sing. You asked him before you even considered asking me!" Mike shout a finger at matt, whose faced suddenly added in the guilt he was feeling.

"But you know, what's the best thing I've gone through all this? I've killed the lot of you cretins! Philistines! No good useless air breathing beings!" Mike chest and heart palpitating like a freight train. "Even after all that, asking me to, parade around, like a dog! You disrespected the biggest thing to me."

_

* * *

_

_That old people music, no way boy. – Mercedes, deceased_

_Jazz? Is that like just boring? – Finn, deceased_

_I danced and sang it once, doesn't mean its any good. – Puck, deceased_

_That's right, I didn't even dance to it yo! – Artie, deceased_

* * *

"You all laughed at me. Said that Jazz was useless, that Jazz was boring. Said that even if some deity came down from heaven to sing it you'd still fall asleep with a VOGUE magazine!" Kurt backed off slightly, no one insulted VOGUE. "So I returned with my own little bit of humour."

"What the fuck you sick bastard!" Kurt grabbed Sue's knife, with almost no resistance and pointed it at Mike's smug face. He looked down at her and finally realised why. She had been nicked a little too hard by Kurt's pull back, and it seemed like Mike did get to her. _Damnit. _Sue was losing blood as well. _That makes two._

"Seems like the invincible coach is down for the count you Fag." Kurt almost wanted to throw the knife at him. But it was stalemate.

_

* * *

_

_The movement, that form, that much blood, all over him. Mike stepped back slowly to see the final moments of Finn's life as he jerked his last and slumped in his position. Mike turned to see Rachel weeping her tiny little eyes out and then passing out. "Don't worry my dear." Mike said as he removed the gag from Berry's mouth "Your turn will come."_

* * *

"And you killed everyone. Everyone!" Kurt yelled at Mike.

"You should have been fucking dead you sorry shit." Mike spat out with as much venom as death himself. "But your damn friend got in the way, so I knifed her ass." Kurt gasped for a brief period before he resumed his stance, fist around the solid cold handle of the knife as tight as glue.

* * *

Damnit. _Mike looked around the empty basement, hoping for Kurt to pop out in an overdressed fashion and hopefully, an open chest for him to stab. Suddenly, Mercedes walked in and saw him._

"_Who the hell are you?" She shouted at him. _Oh well, change of plans._ He thought as he reached for another MP3 and started playing it. Order didn't matter to him._

* * *

"you…."

"Oh what? HUH!" Mike screamed with a glint in his eye that just painted out murder. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last thing everyone wanted to see.

A black MP3. And he pressed play.

"_I see skies of blue, clouds of white"_

Mike began to move closer to Kurt as he readied up the knife.

"_The bright blessed days, the dark sacred nights"_

_I can't do this. _Kurt's mind was beginning to chicken out as Mike grew even closer, his teeth showing behind that horrid smile of his.

"_And I think to myself, what a wonderful world"_

"Just die!" Kurt hoped that he said that to Mike not himself as Mike reached touching distance. The boy and the Asian were close. The air they breathed one in the same, both had a knife, only one was going to make it out of it alive. Kurt prepared himself for the attack, but he was prepared to take one for the team. In the stomach.

"_Yes I think to myself….."_

BANG!

The room jumped, Sue even getting out of her blood loss state at the sound. Brittany and Matt turned to see Iverson, holding up a smoking gun. Then Iverson collapsed on the ground, obviously using up the last of his strength to fire the shot.

Kurt was staring at the eyes f Mike Chang, barely inches away from his face, smiling like a madman, which he was. But, the blood was new. The blood that was trickling down his face and grin. Kurt gazed north as he saw the top of Mike's head. There was a bloody gaping hole of blood and gore, with more and more blood pouring out of it. The sight was ghastly.

"…_what a wonderful…...d….."_

Mike uttered out the last words as he finally collapsed on the ground. Kurt could only breathe as he looked at the man who just tried to kill him who killed all his friends. His eyes finally rolled to the back of his head, but his grin never went away. The police outside were pounding on the door now, they clearly heard the gunshot.

Three rams into the door and it gave way. The officers looked inside to see the worst.

A man of the law, down for the count.

A teenage, crying where he stood, blood all over his face.

Two teens in the corner, holding each other and sobbing.

A teacher, grabbing her guts in pain.

And a boy on the floor, his blood and brains everywhere, dead as a doornail.

It was over.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN...THE KILLER WAS OTHER ASIAN ALL ALONG...**

**A BIG GIANT SHOUTOUT TO PoppyandViolet FOR GUESSING THE ANSWER SO EARLY ON. WAS IT BRILLIANCE OR A SHEER STROKE OF LUCK WITH ALCOHOL? ANY WHO, GRATS!**

**And the world is now at peace, or is it?**

**N forget readers, WE'RE NOT OFF THIS GODDAMN CRAZY TRAIN YET!**

**ONE MORE CHAPTER**

**AND ONE MORE REVEAL**

**TWIST AND TURN READERS...the final chapter of "Mack the Knife" is coming...**

**Till then, cheers.  
**


	15. Mack the Knife

**Hello all, i write this slightly sad. it's the end of Mack the Knife. This is the last chapter of Mack the Knife, which started about a month ago, and about 29000 words later, 65 reviews, uncountable number of story alerts and hits and accusations out the yea, it's finally over. I'm going to save all my thanks for the end, so please, ENJOY!**

* * *

A man walked over to his desk and pulled open a drawer. In it, laid a folder marked 'Lima, Ohio'. The man sat down on his chair as he flicked on his lights, the room illuminating in a glow of orange. He took the folder and opened it, contents spilling out into his hands as he read through the information.

_THE LIMA TIMES 2011_

_The Jazz Killer: Convicted and Found!_

_By Brad Murphy_

_This morning, in the wee hours at 00:17, the killings of the Jazz Killer was brought to a close. The events drew to a close at William McKinley high School, in the school's choir room, where the killer, Mr Mike Chang, was killed by lead investigating officer, Sergeant Arthur Iverson, who was injured when the paramedics arrived on the scene, was weakened and had blood loss due to a wound on his stomach caused by Mr Chang. The investigations started two days ago, when the bodies of Mr Artie Abrams, Miss Tina Cohen-Chang, Mr Azimo Adams and Mr Figgins, the school's principal were found mutilate under suspicious circumstances, their deaths classified as unnatural. Following the discovers, two nights ago, the body of Miss Santana Lopez was found as well. Yesterday, more bodies were found in the town. Mr Finn Hudson, Miss Mercedes Jones and Mr Noah Puckerman were found dead in their respective homes, with the exception of Miss Jones. _

_Sergeant Iverson had ordered the remaining members of the school's Glee Club, who were the deduced as the killer's primary targets, back to William McKinley High for a formal investigation and questioning. Mr Chang was amongst them as he was a member of the school's Glee Club too. During the investigation, the four other surviving Glee students, Mr Matt Rutherford, Miss Brittany Pierce, Mr Kurt Hummel and Miss Rachel Berry were locked inside of the choir room with Mr Chang, as well as Sergeant Iverson and the local cheerleading coach, Miss Sue Sylvester, who was at that time assisting in the investigation. During this time, Mr Chang was able to kill Miss Berry in an induced blackout and injure Sergeant Iverson, before he was killed by Sergeant Iverson, thus ending the killings._

_Sergeant Iverson succumbed to his injury early this morning at Lima General. His partner in the investigation, who was not at the scene of the questioning, Mr Edmond Bones comment "Sergeant Iverson was a credit to the force and will be sorely missed as a partner and as a friend." Sergeant Iverson was single._

E put down the newspaper clipping and sighed. Iverson didn't survive the night and died, and E had lost one of the best partners he ever had. E glanced at the nearby clock. 2:32 AM, 12 January 2011. It had been 2 years since the case, and E had been given a promotion to a high position, but E opted for a desk job, saying that he was tired, but in his heart he knew it wouldn't be the same without Iverson.

Iverson picked up the three photographs of the remaining survivors. The pictures showed the kids smiling. Of course, the pictures were taken before the incident, and E wondered if the kids would ever smile, especially after something like that. He pulled out another article from the folder, reminding himself that he was wrong. It was just two survivors.

_Body of Matt Rutherford found in house_

_Mr Matt Rutherford, a survivor of the recent Jazz Killer incident, was found dead in his home in Lima, Ohio. Mr Rutherford was found by his parents yesterday morning and was pronounced dead by the paramedics who arrived on the scene. His cause of death was declared natural, as it seemed that Mr Rutherford had taken his own life by ingesting a lethal level of pills._

_Mr Rutherford was one of the three survivors of the recent events of the Jazz Killer Mr Mike Chang, earning the name from leaving a jazz song by each of his victims. Early speculations believe that Mr Rutherford had Survivor Guilt, a mental condition where the victim believes that he should have been affected by a traumatic event. Sources say that Mr Rutherford was Mr Chang's close friend, and was therefore stressed out due to the events._

_The other two survivors were contacted for a response, but refused to give a comment. Our condolences go out to the Rutherford Household._

E slotted the pictures of the survivors back into the folder as he cursed silently under his breath as he took out the picture of Mike. That boy had singlehandedly killed 12 people, count it, TWELVE people. It was just insane that a kid at the age of 17 could have cause such a wake of destruction and mayhem like he did, not to mention the deaths at his hands. The police could never find the body of William Schuester, and he was pronounced dead and a victim after a week.

E kept on reading through all the articles. It was his little ritual, every once in a while, to relieve the event. He woke up sometimes to believe it was all a nightmare. Then he'd see Iverson's badge, which he accepted at this funeral, hanging on his wall, and he'd be reminded of the pain and the deaths, all those kid's lives, dashed.

Then E saw something wrong.

"_Oh, the shark has pretty teeth, dear, and it shows them pearly white"_

E looked up at the sound of the music and turned to his radio. It was obviously off as he looked around his apartment. There was nothing but the glow of his lamp and the music. The music that was as ominous as death. It was jazz.

"_Just a jack knife has MacHeath, babe, and it keeps it way out of sight"_

E quickly ran for his room, which was down the hallway. He had his gun there, and unless he was going to defend himself with a picture of the person they accused of doing the killings. And now, it seems they were wrong. Dead wrong. And he would be if he wasn't fast. Then he felt his legs go weak.

"_When that shark bites with his teeth, dear, scarlet billows begin to spread"_

E collapsed on the floor, howling at the pain as he looked at his legs. They were cut, badly, with his blood staining his tiled floor, spreading out like wildfire. He still couldn't see anyone, the lamp wasn't that bright and his vision had been compromised. He tried to reach out, feel around for anything. Anything that would save him. He found his hands on the wrong end of a jungle knife.

"_Fancy gloves, wears old MacHeath, babe, so there's never, never a trace of red"_

E screamed out again, clutching his hand and looked up. A figure had mysteriously appeared, clothed in black and veiled like the night. Its figure slender and slim as an alley cat, with the stealth and pitch of one.

"_On the sidewalk, one Sunday morning, lies a body oozin' life"_

The figure crouched down to look at its victim as E could feel his words all over him, the breaths bathing him in a cold sweat of fear. E, had one chance. He grabbed the figure's head, hoping to headlock him. But alas, his hand had failed him. The pain proved too much, and E only grabbed the hood of the figure, ripping it clean off. It didn't stop the song.

"_Someone's sneakin' round that corner"_

"Y…YOU!"

The now unmasked figure brought the knife down to E throats, E gurgling as the figure tore a line clean across his neck, the blood now spraying upwards in a spectacular fashion, a fountain of life, now draining from E as he struggled and failed, till his kicking stopped.

"_Could that someone be Mack the Knife?"_

The figure released its gripped on the handle as it slowly went to a sitting position on the floor, next to its victim, and brought its knees towards his chest. He promised himself he wouldn't cry.

He promised himself that this was for his sake. But now, staring down at the body, Kurt couldn't help but cry. He didn't cry at the funerals. He didn't cry when the police couldn't find the body of Mr Schuester. He didn't even cry when Matt was found dead. But that one was for obvious reasons, Kurt made sure Matt's drink had enough to take a rhino under.

* * *

"_Kurt, I just don't get it, some things just don't add up, and I need your help man."_

_Kurt tensed up at the news. Someone was on to him._

"_Sure, just don't call me 'man', k?"_

"_Sure thing Kurt." Matt smirked a little at the boy's comment. Life had been down since the incident, and Matt had just been obsessing that Mike, the man he trusted, had killed all his friends. He was adamant to prove Mike was just slightly crazy at the interrogation, but not responsible for the killings. That's when he stumbled onto something and called Kurt, the smartest guy he knew, even more than his dad._

"_Hey, where's your toilet? After sneaking in here, I think ruining my Burberry pants any more would be a sin."_

_Matt laughed as he grabbed his cup. "Third door on the right." He pointed at the corridor. "And help me refill my drink if you don't mind, but quietly. My folks are still asleep."_

Bingo._ "Sure thing." Kurt grabbed the glass and headed out._

"_Don't piss in it!" Matt called out silently to Kurt as he left. Kurt reached the bathroom and opened the Rutherford's medicine cabinet, scanning through the various pills and medicine that was all over the place. He quickly grabbed a handful and crushed them under his boot's heel. _Matt's not going to have to worry about hygiene where he's going._ He poured the powder in the cup and filled it up, concealing itself thankfully. For good measure, Kurt poured in some of his hair gel. _What the hey, it might help.

_Kurt returned to Matt and handed him the drink. "Thanks ma..opps. Thanks Kurt." Matt smiled as he took the cup and gulped it all down at one go. Matt relished the water as he went to the table and picked up a clipping._

"_Have a look at this Kurt." Matt handed him the article and pointed to the circled picture. "I think something's up in there, but I might be wrong." Then Matt suddenly felt weak, all over. Matt collapsed on the floor gasping for air as he tried to look around. Kurt simply bent down to Matt, looking at him in his agony and pain._

"_You know what? I think you're right." Kurt smirked as he grabbed the clipping and headed for the window. He turned back to see Matt still gasping for air. _All for the greater good_ Kurt thought as he jumped down and headed home to practise a shocked face tomorrow._

* * *

He didn't want to kill Matt. But he had no choice. Kurt fished in his pockets, his tears now taking over him as he began to sob some more. He opened up the creased article. In it was a picture of Azimo, dead by shotgun. The window in the background was circled in bright red and Kurt knew why. Mike was a football player and knew each of the player's lockers. But he was a tall guy. A tall guy that couldn't have squeezed through the window. You had to be smaller. Smaller and holding a spare shotgun your dad discarded a long time ago, thinking it was jammed. It just needed a little oiling, that's all. And a target.

_

* * *

_

_Kurt pried open Azimo's locker as he held his breath at the stench of gym shorts. _Ewww._ Kurt proceeded to shove the shotgun in, adding his own little touch, a coin shower. _Thank you Resident Evil. _He then got out the fishing string and tied it to the rigger and with the skill a tailor would have, weaved it to the door and prepped it for triggering once the door was open. He picked up the black MP3 on the floor next to him. It was exactly identical to the others that the killer had used, wasn't too hard to find online. He tested the sound._

"_The minute you walked in the joint…"_

"_Perfect." Kurt turned it off and put it in the locker as well, adjusting his gloves as he closed the locker door tight. He reached the other lockers and climbed up to the top. Thanks to Sue slyvester's Cheerio boot camp, he learnt how to lift his own body weight. He reached the top and crouched, waiting for Azimo to enter. Then, footsteps._

So we begin again. _Kurt pressed the button as Azimo walked in._

* * *

Kurt crushed the article and threw in the corner in his anger. He knew the killer was on the loose. He wasn't the killer, but he was a killer. A vicious killer, a coldblooded killer. He still remembered when he found Schuester body. His dad had asked him to check on a breakdown call and he found the truck. The worst part was the bloodstains. Kurt followed them to find Will, wrapped up in the plastic and still melting. And on his body was a note that said "Stopped Believing". Kurt continued crying, the music player activated by his proximity.

Kurt vomited at the spot when he saw his deceased mentor in a wrap. Kurt couldn't report it, the cops would have probably blamed the gay kid and locked him up for it. So he did the right thing. He pushed the body to the river and let it sink. The Journey was over for William. The car was swiftly taken to the junkyard and crushed; a 'dangerous leak' was the reason.

Kurt always got to school early, to stock up his clothes stash for any slushies or dumpster dives. Not to find dead classmates. Not to find one of the strongest people Kurt knew dead, by suicide? Kurt looked down at the boy, on his body was a note, but in his hand was a note, same as Will's. 'First Class or Coach?" Kurt stiffened at the sight. Then at the music. He looked up to see it coming from a window. He squinted his eyes, but they went wide when he saw what was there. It was a balck MP3.

Kurt ran to his car. He ran in and shut the door. _Maybe he was suicidal. It's totally coincidence, total coincidence. A note, an MP3? I must be tired, I must be insane! Wait. Artie's too short to even reach the windows in the library. And, he's too uptight for Jazz. That just means….. _"He was murdered…." The boy stopped in his Navigator. Kurt brushes his hair aside as he slowly realises the awful truth. _I could be next….I could be the next one killing._

Kurt had targeted the four people that made his life hell, but Karofsky was out of town, so he aimed for lackey No. 2, Azimo, and Figgins. The MO wasn't hard to follow, and the job was delightful. The look on Figgins face, his plea, his blood, his last prattle, it was almost addictive. But there was still one more.

* * *

"_Call me irresponsible, call me unreliable, go on and throw in undependable too"_

_Kurt watched as Noah Puckerman, his main tormenter got up, singing along even with the song. He was shocked that the Neanderthal, the guy that had dumpster dived him and threw pee balloons at him, was actually enjoying a little class. But no amount of singing, no amount of Glee bonding would ever be enough to forgive Puck for what he had done._

_He waited for Puck to leave as he jumped down from his hiding spot. Puck's ceiling made a great alcove for him to hide in, and his toilet was the perfect ladder to his hiding spot. He quickly wrote out the message with his purple gloves, cursing silently at the difficulty. Then Kurt saw the razor blade. It wasn't like his jungle knife, but it would throw off the cops. He scarpered up the toilet bowl as Puck burst in, bewildered. Kurt was still singing his demise as he saw Puck read the message._

_Kurt pounced. He jumped on the jock's shoulder's and began slicing, slicing and cutting Puck as he stood there and watched himself die horribly. Kurt jumped off as Puck fell to the floor. He was silent for a second, seeing his hill finally conquered. He waited, and sang, sang like never before._

"_I'm irresponsibly mad about you"_

* * *

And now it was over. The last one was dead. Sergeant bones had talked to Kurt a few times about the incident, and Kurt knew something was up. So he bided his time, waiting for two whole years, so as not to arose any new suspicions. He stalked Bones, studied his building and his work hours. He knew Bones was still doing his own investigation, and he knew he was getting close. He waited, and that night was perfect. Perfect to pounce and tie off the last loose end. And it was finally over.

But Kurt was still sad and crying. Wailing in fact. His friends were dead, his enemies were dead, the last door to his freedom, dead. Everyone was dead around him, and he didn't do anything to stop it, he just sat there and killed himself. Took lives from people. Was it really worth it? No one was there for him, no one. And he was all alone amongst the dead.

"Oh My."

Kurt looked up between his sobs to see a boy standing by the door. He looked older than him, his brown hair in lovely curls and his face like a godsend of excellence. He looked slightly older than Kurt, and he was wearing a uniform of sorts. The boy was totally Kurt's type, dapper, only if Kurt wasn't crying next to a dead body he might have been more casual to the boy. But he kept crying.

The boy walked towards Kurt and E's body as he looked down at the scene. The most angelic boy on the floor, clothed in tight black clothes, and the dead body of his neighbour, with a knife in his neck. It didn't take long to piece two and two together, especially after he heard the shrieks and decided to come over to check. The boy had just killed his neighbour. The cute, smoking hot and pretty boy.

"Oh dear god! Blaine, thanks for the call!"

_Blaine? That must be his name._ Kurt looked up to see an elderly security guard, who had drawn his pistol and aimed it at Kurt. "You kid! I remember you. You're a filthy murderer!" Kurt flinched at the old man's words.

"You hear me? A no good, dirty, disgusting murderer!" Kurt began to cry more as the old man got bolder. "And look at your faggoty ass get up! You must be a dirty, disgusting…"

BANG!

Kurt thought it was it. It was his end. He looked down, expecting to see a wound and blood pouring out of it, the end of his life on a floor. But he saw absolutely nothing. He turned to see the old man, gapping. Kurt gasped. The old man had just blown his brains out, his face full of fear and shock. But that wasn't why Kurt was gasping. In the old man's hand was that boy, Blaine's hand. And so was his finger, that was all pointed at the old man's head.

The old man's body fell to the floor as Blaine moved towards the smaller boy and squat down next to him. He reached out his blood covered hands and grabbed the boy's own blood crusted ones as he pulled the boy into a tight hug.

"Hey. What's your name?"

"..K…K…Kurt." Kurt managed to get out, shocked at Blaine's actions.

"My name is Blaine." Blaine proceeded to rub Kurt's back, his sobs decreasing at Blaine's motion.

"You killed this guy?" Blaine asked Kurt.

Kurt nodded at Blaine. Why was this hot piece of ass hugging him? Was he really dead and in Gay Heaven?

"..You killed that guy?" Kurt asked in return. Blaine nodded too at Kurt. "…W..Why?"

"Because you're not a filthy murderer. You're not the only one that's done this before." Kurt was shocked at Blaine's response. _He killed too._ "We don't just kill for fun, we killed for survival, and judging by your state, I'd say you're feeling bad about it?"

Kurt nodded furiously. "..yes….I'm the only one left…"

"Then I'm here for you, ok Kurt?" Blaine looked at Kurt and tightened his griped around the smaller boy. Kurt felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt safe. Secure. There in the arms of a hot stranger named Blaine, who just killed a security guard. It felt, so nice.

"B..Blaine. I'm….." Kurt was hesitant to say it. He was worried that all that security would disappear in an instant, but he had to get it out. "…I'm gay."

Blaine almost grinned at the news that lay before him. This marvellous boy, with eyes you could lost in for days, was gay? "So am I." Kurt almost screamed in shock at the news. "And that's why I really shot him." Blaine said with a sparkle in his eye. Kurt had just met his match in every way.

"Can you stand up? Someone might have heard the gunshot, and we've got to get out of here."

"…I can't feel my legs. Sorry Blaine….wha?" Blaine had swept Kurt off his feet, and placed him in a cradle made of his arms. He headed for the door, with Kurt in tow.

"Blaine?"

"Yes Kurt?" He looked down at Kurt's brilliant eyes again.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, now get some rest, we're headed back to my room." Kurt closed his eyes as he enjoyed the warmth of Blaine's arms. He snuggled in Blaine's strong arms as the effects of crying finally took over him, he was slipping into sleep.

Maybe he wasn't alone after all, and maybe there was someone to join him now. Someone to join him in the land of the dead. He dozed off, safe in Blaine's arms, a smile on his face.

**That's all folks.**

* * *

**Well**, **a twist, a way to sneak Klaine into the story at it's all over. Did you guys see that coming? I didn't and I even left clues! Anyways, lets get down to it.**

**Thank you all. Seriously. This was my first venture into fan fic, and you guys made it successful to me. I never even thought I'd make it past Chapter 3, but you're reviews made it happen. Thank you all so so much. You don't have to review if you don't want to, but I'm always curious about your views, its fun when I read them.**

**Thank you people of the United States, you guys were the biggest and bestest readers! But a big thank you as well for the readers across the pond that got the Monty Python joke, thank you Canadians, thank you Land Down Under, danke Germany, thank you Brazil and my own home country of Singapore, and now the rest. A big thank you to the readers from the following countries: Ireland, New Zealand, Philippines, Netherlands, Finland, Poland, Dominican Revar, Bahrain, Chile, France, Indonesia, Belgium, Denmark, Trinidad and Tobago (Cool!), Spain, the U.A.E, Isle of Man, Sweden, Argentina, Virgin Islands, China, Mexico, South Africa, Israel, Iran, Austria, Peru, Korea, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Hungary and Italy. Long list but seriously, thank you international readers for making MTK a success for me!**

**And now, it's the end. A sequel? Maybe, in the future. Got a lot of work to do. But its not the end of my writing, we'll see. Till then, CHEERS till the next time we meet! Dr PQ Jazz  
**


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